


Prince of Slaves

by SosearchingRomeo (Breakingthestandards)



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic, Rómeó és Júlia (Színház)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Collars, Epileptic!Tybalt, F/M, Happy Ending, Het and Slash, Incestuous feelings, Injured!Romeo, Lots of warnings and triggers, M/M, Master!Tybalt, Moodswings Tybalt, Multi, No explicit incest, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Siblings, Read at Your Own Risk, Sibling Love, Slash, Slave!Mercutio, Slave!Valentine, Slavery, Smut, Starts out very mean towards Mercutio and Valentine, The Capulets have Won, fear for Sexual transmittable diseases, main characters are all of age, noncon, polygamous warning, possibly dubcon, saucy Lady Capulet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-04-23 20:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 55,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4890427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breakingthestandards/pseuds/SosearchingRomeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>COMPLETE </p><p>Big thank you to Taralisa for the coverimage she has drawn for this. And thank you all for reading and supporting.<br/>~*~</p><p>The Capulets have won, but only because they joined forces with slavetraders. Now Tybalt ends up buying two slaves for himself.<br/>Mercutio is worried about his friends. What happened to Romeo? Where's Benvolio? But most of all he's concerned about Valentine. Because Valentine is all he's got left. </p><p>In a world where all is wrong.<br/>Even feelings.</p><p>~ This story contains many triggers and warnings. ~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Giovanni Badacci

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tveckling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/gifts).



> This story is an example of me trying to get rid of all the traumas that they apparently thought had to fit in a book to make the story "literature" while I was at highschool. So there's the sicknesses, the rape, the violence, the injustice and possibly the incest. And I hope that if this story ever gets finished I will no longer carry the trauma of having to read books containing such topics while I was at school. 
> 
> So if at any point you as a reader say "nope" don't let me know. Just throw away the file and quietly wait for me to upload a happier and fluffier tale. Because I can do those too. I promise. I wish to make it clear that I don't support all themes/kinks broached in this story in real life and I am aware things would be very different in real life. I would not want for anyone to suffer such a fate. But keeping in mind that this is a story and I can finally make all the wrongs rights....Anything can happen! To those who do like this story: enjoy.

 

 (Drawings host was lost. I will try to upload it again later on)

_Drawing by Taralisa_

* * *

 

Long legs paced down the alleyway in a hurry. Tybalt was making haste to reach the slave trader before their appointment was overdue. He reached the terraced house to find a round man standing in the doorway, petting his belly and glancing unimpressed at the swordsman.

“Ah, Tybalt. So you came without your lovely cousin this time?”

Tybalt sneered at him. “My cousin sent me on my own this time, Giovanni. Besides, she doesn’t need to be present at all times.”

“Really? One gave me the impression the mistress doesn’t like to be parted from her dogs.” Tybalt could but sneer at Giovanni for this comment, but he wisely bit his tongue. Giovanni merely laughed.

Ever since Lady Capulet formed an alliance with the Badaccies the fate of the city had been sealed irrevocably. The Badaccies were a ruthless gang – not a family by blood but by trade- and were excellent at raiding cities and selling people for luxuries. They didn’t need the city to rule nor did they need a castle to live in – which made the deal even sweeter because these things interested the Lady Capulet greatly.

And so a deal was struck. The Badaccies and Capulets joined forces, killed the prince and captured most of the Montagues. Though Juliet had been denied her marriage to Romeo, she now kept the man as a pet in her bedroom. (Tybalt knew this by making the grave error of walking into her room unannounced to find a man covered in bandages pleading him with muffled nonsensical sounds to let him go. He’d shut the door and vowed not to enter without knocking ever again). Juliet was married the next day to Gustave Badacci, the younger son of Giovanni, and she didn’t even seem to mind.

It was no wonder that Tybalt felt bereft of his life’s purpose. He had always been there to protect Juliet and protect her virtue – but she had a husband now. And a pet.

He had always hoped to gain her love – but she loved another and though she liked to tease him she’d told him several times since Verona fell into Capulet hands that she liked him best as her cousin, not as something more.

He had always thought he’d have to revenge his father - but the Badaccies protected many of the Montagues now as they were valuable stock - and Tybalt had done nothing more but knock a handful of Montagues unconscious during the fight. No real revenge was to be had.

His tired gaze came to rest upon this man who was now one of the most influential men of Verona.

“All right.” Giovanni said, his features softening at the troubled and weary gaze of the man in front of him. “I do have some nice stock in here for you. But you’d better be quick. We plan on travelling east in a few days’ time. Chance is we won’t be here in three days.” He gestured for Tybalt to come along then entered the house which was where he kept his stock.

“You’re leaving.” Tybalt stated as he followed the large man. He had already know they wouldn’t stay for long as new slaves were only gained in new and not yet raided areas. “Your sons?”

Giovanni stroked a hand past his chin as he led the way. “Gustave will stay with Juliet. He’s never liked the travel.” He turned to Tybalt while he kept walking. “Always been a softy, that lad. The thought of trading human beings makes him feel sick.”

“A weak heart.” Tybalt agreed. He had to fight the nausea that crept on him and wondered if he’d forgotten his medicine. It felt eerily like one of his attacks was ready to humiliate him in front of the leader of the Badaccies and he didn’t want that to happen. His reputation was already pitiful.

A small smile curled his lips when he thought of how weak Romeo had looked and how weak Juliet’s new husband was. Tybalt had always considered himself weak as well what with all his epileptic faults and the way Lord and Lady Capulet had treated him. Yet he had survived every blade swung his way and still breathed. He had come to realise that he must be very strong indeed – strong and purposeless.

Absentmindedly he rubbed his hand past the scarf around his neck. The wound Romeo had dealt him there was still sore but had healed a good way. The scar was hidden behind the soft fabric and one of the few marks that would otherwise be very visible proof of just how many dangerous fights he had survived.

They finally came to a stop near the entrance of the cellar. On their way they had passed several slaves – mostly women who were being prepared for sale. Tybalt had deliberately refused to look at them as he’d recognized some of the Montague girls. Most of the slaves he’d already seen before, when he visited only yesterday as Juliet’s bodyguard. The girl had made it her mission to buy as many of the Montague girls and younger boys to work in their household telling Tybalt “I pity them and don’t want to see them becoming a bed slave to monsters.” Tybalt figured she did it to feel less guilty about the state Romeo was in. It was all thanks to their family. It was all thanks to Juliet’s mother.

He sighed. Giovanni was holding the door to the cellar and raised a brow at him. He was starting to get impatient. “Well, get in. These are the precious ones.”

Tybalt had not been inside the cellar before, but now that his curiosity was eased he felt sick again. The cellar held more people than he had imagined. All of them were shackled, tied up, dirty and wounded. There was a girl with red hair who stared angrily at him but otherwise remained silent. A boy he vaguely recalled having been a servant of the prince glanced his way and then quickly looked away. Another slave spit at him and cursed his name.

“Why are they kept in here?” Tybalt asked hoarsely, his voice cracked and his eyes sought out the slave trader in the dark.

“They are special, the whole lot. And since you are very special too I will let you have one for a discount.” Giovanni grinned at him. “Well? Take your time. Pick one.”

At this strange offer, Tybalt started to walk past the trade ware to study each and every one of their faces. He halted when he saw a brunette who looked like his cousin, but clearly wasn’t. The girl blinked up at him and with an unsettled feeling Tybalt briskly turned away from her and went on to the next. All the while he mused how it would have been like if Lady Montague had made ties with the slave traders instead of his aunt.

When he reached the corner of the cellar he froze at the sight in front of him. Huddled in the dark corner of the building sat two boys, wrists in shackles, sickly pale and trembling. The larger one held his arms protectively in front of the smaller and glared dangerously up at Tybalt.

“Come on then, laugh Capulet.” The boy said, his voice harsh and hoarse like he hadn’t had water for days. “It seems you fancy yourself a King after all. Though not of Cats. Slave traders are so much worse.”

Tybalt’s hand crept involuntary to his chest and he clutched the locket he wore in his hand.

“Still the same, I see? Touching yourself in public. Capulet, you should be ashamed of yourself.” The ginger-haired boy spat, and Tybalt was brought out of his state of shock. He flew at the boy and grabbed his upper arms violently, tearing them away from the boy he’d been trying to protect. He drew him up close enough for their breaths to mingle.

“Escalus,” Tybalt rasped, shaking the boy a little too roughly in his hands. The action erupted a small yelp from the smaller boy who sat huddled in the corner. “Reduced to nothing and still foolish enough to taunt me.” Tybalt growled at him.

But Mercutio only replied with a smirk and for the first time Tybalt noticed that the prince’s nephew looked tired. Very tired. And emaciated. And bruised.

“What did they do to you?” He asked.

“Ah! Tybalt concerned about my well-being? Let this be a dream that will never end!” Mercutio laughed but Tybalt shook him again.

“Romeo? Does he live? What happened to Benvolio?” Tybalt appeared displeased by Mercutio’s questions. He knew damn well that the boy tried to avoid answering Tybalt’s question. No matter, he would find out – sooner or later.

“Barely.” Tybalt grunted as a reply to whether Romeo was alive or not. “Benvolio I know nothing of. Why should you be concerned with it anyway, prince of slaves?” His eyes locked with those of the hurt boy in front of him at the mention of the new nickname and his gaze intensified. Mercutio’s lips twitched slightly but in disapproval and his eyes turned cold.

“So. Still a prince I am then? I suppose a prince of slaves would still be better than a king of cats.” He said through gritted teeth. “Well, I am a prince who cares to know what happened to his friends.”

“You should be more concerned about your own hide.” Tybalt growled while he finally let go off him. Mercutio fell limply to the stone wall behind him but recollected himself and once he straightened up again he reached for the boy to his side. Protective arms wrapped once more around the smaller redhead in the corner.

“If you came to taunt me then I am thrilled to be considered special enough to consume your very fine time. But if you came to get a slave--”

Tybalt cut him off by placing a finger against Mercutio’s lips.

“I am offered a slave with discount. Don’t feel too special.” Dark eyes glinted as the Capulet expected for Mercutio to start pleading for his life. Surely the boy must know that the slave traders would set out soon and any fate that could be waiting for him would not be pretty.

(Yes, think of how he could be used for hard labour till his bones are sore and he’s done away. His body is long but very lean. How long will he last? Think of how he could be used to fight or figure as a guard. How long will he last? You almost killed him, remember! Think of how he could be taken in as a slave for hard labour chores but be forced to bed by his master. He’s a pretty thing like that. It won’t take long before anyone would notice and his body would be torn to pieces in rough steamy uncaring sex. Or if no one would want him – how long will he be fed and kept alive till he’s considered a nuisance and they do away with him. What if? )

Tybalt’s mind was filled with possibilities from sore moments of Mercutio being abused and manhandled to Mercutio not being bought at all and it somehow unsettled him.

But unlike his expectations, Mercutio held his gaze captured with his own, parted his lips to speak, and pleaded – but not for his own life.

“Well, if you’re lucky to get discount you should make use of it. Here, Tybalt.” He shove the reluctant boy to his right towards Tybalt who could now fully view him for the first time. Long red hair, scared eyes, much smaller than Mercutio in size.

“You would give to me your brother.” Tybalt blankly said.

Mercutio grinned while his brother protested and tried to cuddle back in his arms. “Valentine is everything I have left.” The whispering of the former prince’s nephew was endearing and Tybalt leant closer to him. “Young, sweet, innocent. You’d do well to spend your money on h-“ His voice cracked and for a moment he looked at his sibling, then his eyes flew back up to meet Tybalt’s expecting gaze. “You’d do well to spend your money on him.”

It took a moment of silence before Tybalt threw himself a few steps back in laughter. “You’re trying to sell me your own brother?” How ridiculous was that?

But when Mercutio didn’t laugh or make a joke about it and when Tybalt saw the serious expression so unlike Mercutio which was still plastered on his face he felt his stomach sink. “You are serious?” He muttered at the boy.

“What a fine salesman you are.” He then taunted. “Valentine, isn’t it?” He glimpsed at the boy hiding in Mercutio’s arms. “I shall have a talk with the boss.”

Long legs gracefully diminished the distance between merchant and increased the distance between merchandise.

“The prince’s nephew.” Giovanni said before Tybalt had reached him. “I’m afraid the older boy Escalus isn’t worth much. Damaged goods, you see.” Tybalt didn’t have to ask him what he meant by that. When the slave traders had come to join the fight Mercutio was still in the convent recovering from the wound that Tybalt had dealt him. Unintended.

“He was brought here with injuries to his chest and you know the men, they liked the taste of royal blood too much to deny them a bit of fun. He’s a strong one though, that boy. He defended his little brother with his life and instead got all the men giddy for him. I’m afraid he’s a sore ass if you want him to do your bedding with. I’ll not give him with any discount to you, he’s already worth so little.”

The words irked Tybalt as they clearly said that Mercutio had been hurt by more than one man during his stay here. He dared not think about the way this must have happened.

“What’s his price.”

Giovanni looked at him. “50.”

“50?” Tybalt couldn’t believe his ears. “For the prince’s nephew?”

“The prince is not prince anymore. The nephews are worthless.”

“Then why keep them here if they’re of no importance?” Tybalt asked attentively.

Giovanni scratched a finger behind his own ear thoughtfully before replying. “Because the pretty boy was not for sale. Not till the men had their fill of him. And the pretty child with him was off limits.” Something gleamed in his eyes as he said this, as if there was some hidden secret here. “And they could not be parted. Though that young kid is worth something. I can give the young one to you for 100. With discount make it 75.”

Tybalt grumbled under his breath as he reached for his purse. A slave for 100 was an okay price. But if he wanted to buy both he didn’t know if he had enough coins in his purse. Lady Capulet still owned him last week’s pay.

“I’ll take both boys.” Tybalt finally grunted. “for 100.”

“Two,” Giovanni replied, “for 125.”

“110 then.”

Giovanni shook Tybalt’s hand. “Deal.”

Tybalt gnashed his teeth at the sight of the coins in his purse. He only had enough to pay 100. Without saying a word he pushed the money in Giovanni’s hand who counted it, saw Tybalt’s coins were less than the named price, but shrugged and pretended not to notice. After all, Mercutio was damaged goods and would be hard to sell, especially without his sibling around.

The heavy man walked up to the Escalus siblings and scoffed at them. “Get up.” They moved, though Mercutio’s movements were more careful than Tybalt had ever seen them before. The shackles round their feet were unlocked and they were pushed out of the cellar by Giovanni who, once they stood at the entrance, handed the keys of their wrists and neck-gear to Tybalt.

“Enjoy them.” He told the Capulet. “Oh, and come by for dinner tomorrow-night. We wish to say our farewell to you and your family. You’ve been a great help for our business.”

Tybalt nodded and confirmed he’d be there, then he left by pulling Mercutio and Valentine along by their chains.


	2. Journey Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tybalt takes Mercutio and Valentine to their new home.  
> Warning: Contains smut.

The walk was long and silent. Tybalt could feel Mercutio wanted to complain but the young man was too weak and too injured to risk it. Finally, when the older Escalus was wobbling on his feet and could walk no more, and the silence became too much for Tybalt, he led them to the fountain in the square and told them to sit down and rest.

Looking at Mercutio hurt the swordsman more than he could bear. The boy was covered in grime that made his orange hair look brown and matted. His body was covered in bruises which Tybalt could now distinguish in the daylight to be hand shaped. There were dried remains of something on his clothes that Tybalt didn’t even wish to think about and when Mercutio found the strength to turn to the fountain for a drink, and lifted himself up slightly with his back to Tybalt, he could see a spot of dried blood covering the backside of his trousers.

No, Tybalt could not stomach to look at his self-proclaimed nemesis and instead focused all his attention on Valentine who despite being covered in dirt looked less hurt and rather well-fed.

“What they did to your brother, did they do it to you too?”

“No, sir,” The boy hesitantly replied and Tybalt frowned at the youthfulness and lightness of the boy’s voice. “But they made me watch.” The boy’s voice was a whisper, as if he didn’t dare to talk to him.

“The world’s a cruel place.” Tybalt mused.

Mercutio drank gratefully from the fountain and Tybalt could see that Valentine was eager for a sip too.

“Don’t wait for my permission. Drink.” He said, and Valentine was curled over the edge of the fountain, hungrily lapping his tongue for water.

By God, Tybalt thought as he caught sight of Valentine drinking, not only do they look so much the same but this boy must still really be a child. He could see no sight of an Adams apple bobbing as the boy drank. What a strange thing to notice, he thought to himself.

After refreshing themselves, Mercutio, who was now leaning with his back against one of the statues of the fountain, grinned up at him.

“You must have a kinder heart than I anticipated.” He said teasingly. “Or indeed than I can handle.”

“You wait and see, Escalus.” Tybalt sneered at him, but inwardly he was grateful that Mercutio had started to taunt him again. This behaviour he knew and recognized. This behaviour felt save and familiar to him. This was Mercutio as he knew him and as he’d grown to love. “You have no idea what plans I have for you and your baby brother.”

Mercutio’s eyes turned cold and he threw Tybalt a dangerous glance.

“How old is he anyway? I thought he was already invited to the balls by Lady Capulet. How come we’ve never seen him?”

Tybalt’s questions were met with reluctance and Mercutio sneered at him. “Mind your own business.” Then he crumpled against the statue to which he was perched for support.

“You now are my business.” Tybalt said threatening. “Come, let us continue. I like to be back before the sun sets as I have some other business to attend to.”

He had to push Mercutio up to his feet then dragged the boys along. There was a quick stop near one of the shops where the slaves were handed over to a Capulet girl. Valentine clearly panicked and Mercutio shouted at Tybalt. “What is this game? Are you going to leave us here?”

“I’m not giving you away.” Tybalt said, and as if to prove his point he run a hand down Mercutio’s cheek. Mercutio flinched but did not pull away. “Though,” Tybalt whispered as an afterthought, “when you’ve seen where I’ve gone you might wish you were given away.”

After that, Tybalt was gone for a while and the Capulet girl, who introduced herself as Amy, looked after them and tried to talk to them. Valentine remained shy and Mercutio was having trouble to keep standing up straight. In the end he let himself fall to the ground and after being forced up to his feet several times again by Amy, he cursed openly and Valentine pleaded to let his brother have his rest. When he fell onto his butt again he winced and Amy looked at him apologetically.

“I’ve heard what they do to slaves.” She said. “I didn’t have enough money to buy one but Tybalt lent me some of his last week. I bought a girl, can you imagine? Someone your size.” She pointed at Valentine and smiled sadly. “Valencia. I call her Val. Do you know her?” Valentine said nothing but Mercutio tried to look up from his spot on the ground.

“Yes, what did you do to her?” He demanded more fiercely than he was in a position to do.

“I made her my chambermaid so she can groom my hair each day. Mother loathes her because she’s a Montague but you know, she’s always been my friend. Even during the fights. We never harmed each other, not really.” Amy let out a small laugh and shook her head. “No one ever knew. But now she’s out of harm’s way. I’ll keep her safe, despite her name.”

They all grew silent then. Amy was caught up in remembering, Mercutio was caught up in regrets and Valentine was standing timidly with an unreadable expression on his face.

Tybalt returned with collars in his hand which brought the fire back in Mercutio’s body.

“Bloody hell no!” The boy shouted as he jumped to his feet.

“Come on.” Tybalt murmured, then to his side. “Amy, help subdue them.” Together with Amy’s help Tybalt unlocked Valentine’s neck shackle and placed it in his hand. Tybalt clicked the new collar around it and smiled triumphantly when it fit. Then he proceeded to do the same to Mercutio who put up as much of a fight as he could.

In the end, Mercutio and Valentine followed Tybalt with the old rusty collar of the slave trader in their hands and the new collars carrying Tybalt’s name round their neck.

When the house they reached wasn’t the Capulet estate Mercutio started to laugh loudly and shout ridiculous words until Valentine kicked him in the shin. He stopped shouting but kept laughing while tears rolled from his eyes.

Tybalt grabbed his chin and forced him to look him in the eyes.

“I thought you’d be happy to be home again.” The swordsman whispered to him, but although Mercutio kept laughing, his tears betrayed that he was actually sad.

The brothers were pulled into their old home. The palace of the prince of Verona. Some of the rooms looked like they’d been completely destroyed while others had been lavishly redecorated. The touch of Escalus spirit was gone and everything had come to resemble the Capulet mansion. What once had been their home had now been turned into the new Capulet’s lair.

And Mercutio cried.


	3. Inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was accidentally published as part of chapter two, so the new part will come as chapter four :)

They were brought to Tybalt’s quarters where they halted.

“I hope you have no problems with sleeping on the floor till other arrangements have been made. As you might have guessed I had not expected to come home with a guest, let alone two.” He said.

Mercutio said nothing as he let himself fall onto the carpet. But he was roughly pulled up by the chains still wrapped around his wrists and he came face to face with Tybalt.

“But first you need a bath cause you reek.” The swordsman paused to lick his lips thoughtfully then added “and let me take those chains off for you. Only a collar will suffice for now. I expect you two boys to behave or you can count on retribution.”

Valentine blinked and Mercutio turned to look at him. “Punishment.” He said hoarsely. The boy nodded.

Tybalt called for his guards and gave them new instructions in case any of the two slaves tried to get away. A bath was filled in the adjacent room which Tybalt used for his toiletries. He undid the shackles and placed them on his desk. Mercutio frowned at the action but Tybalt merely smiled at him. He would hand these shackles back to Giovanni tomorrow evening.

“Now, undress and get a bath. I will not have filth sleeping on my floor.” Tybalt snarled at them. He chased them into the adjacent room and missed the alarmed expression on Valentine’s face.

“Well?” Tybalt halted in the doorway and effectively blocked their way out of the room. “Get in.”

Mercutio licked his lips and toyed nervously with his belt. Finally he said: “He’s never bathed before-”

Tybalt snorted. “Tell the devil.”

“I mean, He’s not used to bathe in the presence of others.”

The swordsman rolled his eyes. “Did you not have servants at your home? Nephew of a prince? Heir to a title? Heir to a city?” Tybalt’s voice grew angrier.

“Yes, but he’s shy.” Mercutio tried.

“And he’s having the same bath as you so he will have at least one familiar face.” Tybalt retorted annoyed. “And yes, I was referring to your arse.” He added with a grin.

Mercutio rolled his eyes. “Then there won’t be much difference between your face and my arse either.” He retorted.

Tybalt merely smiled. “Watch your tongue, slave-scum. It’s time both you and your little brother got to know who is in charge.” He pointed at his own chest before he loudly said “And I am your master now.” The damp steam of the tub reached his cheeks, warm and gentle, and he calmed down. “Now why are you dawdling? Aren’t you eager to get rid of the dirt?”

The older brother took the chance presented to him and moaned as he clutched his tummy. “I’m so hungry. It’s been so long ago. I might faint in the bath. My body is too weak.”

For once Tybalt had to admit the boy looked rather thin and emaciated. Also, Mercutio had crumpled several times on their way home. Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad point after all.

“You’re right. You need food first.” Tybalt said as he stood in front of the door, blocking any way out, with his arms folded in front of his chest. “But not too much, you need to build it up slow. You and your brother. Get some food in.” He turned and for a moment Mercutio grinned, thinking he’d go get the plates of food himself. But then his smile faltered when Tybalt stuck his head outside of the doors and shouted instructions to his guards.

Back to nagging then. “When will they come?”

“Soon. Now get in the bath.” Tybalt drawled back at him.

“Will they bring the food now? Will it be hot?”

“Hot will be my temper if you keep niggling about this. You’re not in charge any more, Escalus.” Tybalt spat at him. “Oh, I hate that name. Escalus. I shall not use it any more. From now on you’re not heir Mercutio but you’re slave Mercutio. Get it?”

Mercutio remained silent and kept eyeing Tybalt who grew uneasy.

“Get it into your thick skull. You’re my slave and I am your master.”

Without a word Mercutio turned around and walked up to the bath. His expression was pensive.

Tybalt was still stuck at the door, watching their every move.

Mercutio lent towards his younger brother and whispered in Valentine’s ear. “Delay, I’ll keep him busy.” Then stretched himself upward and started to peel layer of layer of clothes off of himself.

His coat fell and then his shirt, revealing his creamy chest and all the marks of hands and scratches that had been concealed by his clothes.

The sharp intake of breath by Tybalt told him his actions were having an effect, and he slowly let his trousers down.

His cheeks were red and his eyes full of pain as he looked briefly at Valentine. Why should it matter anymore, he thought. Valentine had seen him humiliated before, had seen him naked, had been forced to kiss him while he was ravaged by other men. Valentine had seen it all.

The ginger took a deep breath and waited. As expected Tybalt had moved away from the door and had come closer to him.

“These marks.” The Capulet started, “They’re dangerously close to getting infected.”

Mercutio said nothing and just prayed. A sponge was dipped into the water, then brushed past his naked skin. The water burned at his wounds and he hissed.

“Perhaps it’d be better if you not shared the bath.” Tybalt’s whisper reached his ear but he didn’t let it show that he’d heard him. He moved one lean leg over the edge of the tub, then sank into the water.

“Food can wait.” Mercutio said tiredly.

Tybalt’s hands roamed down Mercutio’s body and the man’s eyes fluttered close.

He let Tybalt touch him.

He allowed the other man to move his fingertips past his abdomen, to let him grace gently at his arms and to let his fingertips ghost over his flesh as he sunk deeper into the bath. How could a swordsman be so gentle to his former enemy?

The movements of hands scrubbing him hurt. The water started to collect dirt and grime around him. Old blood, sand, old semen, everything was washed off of him and he moaned against Tybalt’s arm, grabbing onto him as the man tried to clean his wounds.

“Why not have one of your servants do the dirty job for you?” He managed to say.

Tybalt smiled wryly. “Because I like my dirty slave to be viewed by only me.”

The reply left Mercutio baffled and when he opened his eyes all he could see was Valentine’s haunted expression. He noticed Tybalt’s arms were gone and when he turned to look behind him he could hear rather than see how Tybalt instructed a servant to put the food beside the bed and hear how he shouted for a certain Peter to prepare a new bath.

Mercutio was then hauled out of the bath and dried rather roughly with a towel. As he stepped out of the room he could see how Peter came in to prepare a new bath and take out the dirt and grime water. And Mercutio felt relieved to know his sibling did not have to bathe in that.

“What’s that smile for ? On your face?”

He looked up at Tybalt and tried to smile cheekily. But the food distracted him. Tybalt watched him.

“Your brother will get a new bath.” Tybalt impatiently said.

“You’re not a monster.” Mercutio blurted, and instantly regretted what he had said for the vile gaze Tybalt gave him for it. The Capulet held a chair for him.

“Sit and eat.”

Mercutio did as he was told, though it felt awkward to sit down naked at the desk. He tried his best not to remember that this used to be the room of Paris whenever he visited. What had become of him?

Luckily, the food was too distracting and he ate as much as he could stomach. Tybalt had come to sit on the desk, next to his right, and was swallowing some pills. He looked pale and was sweating.

Mercutio frowned and halted his spoon in mid-air. “Are you all right?”

Tybalt’s flat hand fell on his arm and he winced.

“Are you all right, master.” Tybalt snarled at him.

“Really?” Mercutio said, grinning, and teasingly raised a brow. “I did not know you regarded me so highly.”

But Tybalt had slapped the spoon out of Mercutio’s hand and was now holding Mercutio’s face locked between his hands. “Stop playing with me, Mercutio. You’re the slave now. I am your master. You will address me as such.”

Mercutio wasn’t quite sure what happened at that point. All he knew was that his tummy was filled more than it had been in the past days and that he felt his energy replenish. He also knew he was in familiar company and that it felt good to taunt Tybalt.

“Yes,” He replied and could hear Tybalt hold his breath. He was certain Tybalt would grapple with him now, throw punches at him and roll over the floor like in old times. But somehow without him wanting to, he finished the sentence right then and there by saying “master” and his whole meal was knocked aside.

Tybalt was upon him. Dark locks tickling his face and pricking in his eyes as the Capulet held his head locked between his hands and forced lips upon lips. Mercutio whimpered and Tybalt took this as an invitation to dip his tongue inside the other man’s mouth.

Lips locked, tongues battling, the urge to bite suppressed by Mercutio who subjected himself to the hungry touches of Tybalt’s wandering hands. A finger brushed past nipples, a hand slipped between his legs, a finger probed at his sore hole.

Mercutio cried out as he was flung onto the bed, but all he could think of was how Valentine was alone in the bath. And he smiled.

“Enjoying this, Mercutio?” Tybalt taunted him as he lay on top of him. The words were said close to his ear, breath tickling his skin and tongue brushing past the shell.

“You’ve always wanted this when I had no craving.” The dark-haired man continued. “You were the one who kept suggesting me to sleep with a man. You were the one who tried to steal a kiss. You were the one who grew jealous when I had eyes for another. It’s all you.” The words frightened Mercutio but then they turned into a rage he was more familiar with and he laughed.

He didn’t see it coming as Tybalt shouted at him:

“It’s all because of you!”

With the shout, Tybalt thrust himself into Mercutio. Unprepared. The boy cried out and tried to relax his muscles - though his hands had formed fists. Tybalt’s hands sought out his and pried the fingers between his own.

“You despicable wolf.” Tybalt hissed. “My clown of a slave.” His teeth scraped the Mercutio's neck.

The boy trapped below him tried to push against his chest but really, there wasn’t much Mercutio could do to stop him or wrestle him off. His energy had felt renewed but it wasn’t. He was still too weak. He tried to struggle, to push Tybalt off of him and laughed when Tybalt seemed to enjoy the wiggling of Mercutio’s body. So instead of trying to push the other man off, he started to move in a similar pace of the thrusts, pushing his hips up and down, twisting them deliciously till Tybalt’s curses had turned into moans.

The raven-haired man’s face was pressed against the red-head’s shoulder. Their breath was ragged. The orgasm hit ‘his master’ and Mercutio could feel the sticky semen enter his body below. He grunted and pushed the man to try and push him off of him. Tybalt stirred, then pushed himself back on his slave and trapped him between his arms and under the weight of his body. He looked deep into the boy’s eyes.

“Mercutio, you’re mine.” Tybalt whispered. He forced another kiss, then moved off of him.

Mercutio wanted to roll his eyes. If Tybalt had intended to roll off of him anyway why had he rolled back when he was being pushed off? Was he really that desperate to prove his point of their new master-slave dynamics? Mercutio thought so. He turned to his side and winced at the pain he felt between his legs. Tybalt had not prepared him but what should he have expected? A darn porn-show preparation with unicorns and kittens and rainbow coloured lubrication? He would have to get used to Tybalt being the master, at least for now. If he wanted to survive.

“They did much worse.” He told himself silently.

Tybalt was on the other side of the bed, studying him. While the red-haired boy fell asleep, Tybalt was musing silently. “You’re mine, Mercutio.”

A whisper from Mercutio.

“Perhaps I always have been.”


	4. A bright new day

When he woke up the next morning he noticed he was still in the bed. Upon opening his eyes, Mercutio scanned the room to see the plates of food were empty and concluded his sibling must have eaten. Then he spotted Valentine sleeping next to the bed on the carpet and he cursed.

“Damn, Val!” As he tried to sit up straight a sharp pain in his lower half made him rethink his actions and a strong arm pulled him back against the silk covers. A low and rough moan drew his attention.

  
“Lie down, slave.” The man murmured and Mercutio wondered if Tybalt was still sleeping. But when their eyes locked he realized Tybalt was very much awake.

“How did you call me?” He hissed at him.

Tybalt frowned. “Slave. Get used to it, Mercutio, you’re my slave. I bought and paid for you and I will enjoy the payback for all the times you got to taunt me and best me just because you were the prince’s nephew. Well, guess what? Mister King of Cats is now your Master and you will refer to me as so. As to your name, let us forget for a moment that you ganged up with the despicable Montagues. Let us forget that you are an Escalus cause that name will get you nowhere. Not any longer.”

Tybalt hummed as he stretched to lie on his back, propping his hands behind his head. “However, I can still give you a title if you prefer: Prince of Slaves. I quite like the sound of that.”

Mercutio gritted his teeth and flexed his hands, ready to strangle Tybalt, but he was stopped as Tybalt pushed a finger against the man’s nose.

The gesture was so odd that Mercutio blinked. The blinking was endearing to Tybalt who thought he felt his heart melt at the sight of it. As a result, Tybalt’s voice softened when he spoke to him next.

“No, no, you’d better not think of hurting me, Mercutio. I’m the only one who can feed you and clothe you and your brother. And I’m the only one who cares to keep you alive.”

Mercutio growled at him and tried to steady his hands. He lay back on the blankets and stared at the ceiling. “The only one who cares just so he can get his much needed fuck.”

“Now, now, language.” Tybalt grinned at him.

“I was insulting you, my master.” Mercutio agitatedly said.

“My master? Improvement already, Mercutio. I’m impressed.” Tybalt grinned at him and rolled over. He stepped out of the bed and Mercutio let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t the side Valentine was sleeping on.

Tybalt interpreted the sigh wrongly, of course. “Don’t worry, my pet. I’ll be back for you later today. The servants will bring you some food. Don’t expect much luxury though.”

“Why?” Mercutio replied with a smirk. “I thought a King of Cats bathed in luxury. ”

Tybalt’s hand struck him faster than he had anticipated and he rubbed his sore cheek. His eyes looked up at him and betrayed his disbelief. “You hit me.” He said.

“And I will keep punishing you if you don’t address me as your master.” Tybalt replied calmly while he put on his gloves. “I will accept no insolence from you anymore.” He finished putting on his gloves and sat silently on the bed. “Understood?”

“Understood.” Mercutio was still rubbing his sore cheek. “Master.” He said it mockingly, but then something happened which puzzled him. Tybalt lent over to him, gently cradled his face in his hand and placed a kiss on the sore cheek. His thumb lingered to brush gently past the bruised skin.

“Good.” Tybalt stood up and grabbed his purse and a knife he’d kept next to his pillow all night.

All bloody night, Mercutio thought ruefully, I could have slain him and I didn’t. But the thought was banished quite soon when Tybalt inquired after his brother.

“Valentine is still asleep,” Mercutio replied and at the sight of Tybalt raising his hand he quickly added, “master.” Tybalt seemed pleased and nodded.

“Let him know all I told you. I will be back later today.”

With that, Tybalt left.

The moment he was out the door Valentine stirred and sat up. Pity was in his eyes and Mercutio tried to bend forth, hanging over the edge of the bed, to run a hand through Valentine’s wild curls. “Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.

“I heard it all.” Valentine said, worry furrowing his brow. “I will be careful, brother. But you, he hurt you, didn’t he?”

Mercutio laughed and pointed at his cheek. “It’s but a scratch.”

Valentine’s eyes flickered with sadness. “The same thing you said when he nearly killed you.” The boy sat up on his knees.

“The cat didn’t use his claws.” Mercutio said, grinning as if the words and the grin would soothe his sibling.

“The cat used his rod.” Valentine replied and Mercutio fell mute. He looked away in shame.

“I will not let it happen to you, Val.” Mercutio swore silently.

“I know.” Valentine came closer to the bed and cradled his big brother in his arms. “I saw it all happen. It scared me, brother. But Tybalt…. Our master…. He cares for you, doesn’t he?”

“Those stories I told you about him were all stories from my perspective.” Mercutio smiled wryly. “Sometimes I wonder if I started believing my own lies."

* * *

The day was spent carefully yet lazily. Mercutio and Valentine hadn’t been given any instructions yet – none other than to stay in the room – and were handed food by the servants for breakfast and for lunch. The food wasn’t on a plate like it had been yesterday but rather put in bowls with their names on it.

“Is this to shame us, brother?” Valentine had asked.

“I think Tybalt is too stupid to see the difference between man or dog.” Mercutio had replied.

But Valentine had always been the smarter of the two and nodded. “It’s to show us our place.” Mercutio tried to distract him because he too felt shamed for having to eat out of a bowl with his name signed on it.

When water was brought so they could have a wash, Mercutio let Valentine go first. There were no clothes except their dirty tattered ones and they were given two large shirts and one set of underpants. The shirt fit Mercutio almost perfectly. Valentine was drowning in his clothes and though Mercutio would fit the underwear quite well, Valentine had been given it to wear.

When one of the maids came to clean the bed Mercutio helped her and she flushed.

“I’ve seen you before, master Mercutio.” She stammered. “I mean-“

“I know.” Mercutio said, gently placing a hand on her arm before she pulled away as if burned. “I’m no royalty anymore. I’m nobody now.”

“Not at all.” She whispered as she pulled the covers from the bed. She looked at the stains of blood and semen that had dried up in the middle. Mercutio bit his cheek to keep from commenting, but the girl said nothing about it and continued her chores.

“You were one of the best fighters I’d ever seen. Your skills matched those of master Tybalt.” She paused here and seemed to be thinking. The dirty laundry was bundled in her hands. “It’s odd. I’ve always felt as if he wasn’t fully out to harm you.”

Mercutio didn’t dare to look her in the eyes anymore after this. He quietly continued to change the covers. But a whisper escaped him:

“He has.”

After the maid had gone a male servant paid them a visit. He explained his name was Peter and that he’d been Tybalt’s personal servant ever since the boy had been taken in by Lord Capulet.

Peter didn’t look that old. Mercutio said so out loud and earned himself a slap.

“You’d do well to remember your place in this household, pretty boy.” Peter said, though there was no malice in his eyes or his voice. “Now that we have slaves working among here the hierarchy has changed. We, servants, are the higher ranks. You, slaves,” He pointed at Mercutio and Valentine, “are pitifully close to being no one. You’re less than us and the sooner you realize and start behaving so, the better. If you want to spare your life, that is.”

“Understood. What will be expected of us?” Mercutio asked.

“You will not speak unless spoken to. You will wait for your master’s instructions and always when asked to reply answer by calling him master. You will do the duties he makes you perform without question or struggling. You will not resist him.”

“Does that mean I must stop all the jokes?’ Mercutio said, pulling a face and laughing.

Valentine punched his arm softly and he said “oh” before rubbing it. At least big brother had quieted down now.

“We understand.” Valentine replied before Mercutio could say something stupid or silly again. “How do we address you?”

Peter looked at the boy suspiciously. “You’ll address me as mister Peter. The maids will all be missus. I expect decent behaviour.”

Mercutio felt the need to flaunt his insolence one last time. “Am I not the paragon of decency?”

Peter swatted his head.

When noon came to an end Tybalt briefly visited his chambers to change clothes. He announced that he had to attend a dinner with the slave trader “good sir Badacci” and that they would get food delivered to them in his room. Both brothers replied timidly with a “thank you, master” and got his hair on end as a result.

Tybalt was pacing the room like a long-legged cat whilst searching for the right garment to wear and at the same time he collected the shackles that were still on his desk.

“What game is this you’re playing?” He hissed. When met with no reply he came to a halt to glare at the two brothers who sat huddled on the floor at the edge of the room.

“Don’t mock me, _your master_.” He threatened as he stepped closer to them. “Sweet kittens in a day? Don’t take me for a fool.” 

He halted in front of Mercutio and bared his teeth at him. “Where is your back spine?”

Mercutio, not able to resist the urge to fall into old habits, Opened his mouth and despite his brother’s hand tugging at his leg he replied – out of turn and insolently so. “It was broken when dogs came digging for it. Then it was stolen by a cat.”

Tybalt’s hand was on his face and Mercutio flinched. But Tybalt didn’t hit him. He paused and his breath tickled the slave’s cheek.

“Look at me, Mercutio.” The voice was too gentle, too kind. Mercutio looked at him.

“Now that’s a good slave.”

Mercutio’s eyes darkened and he glowered at his ‘master’. The words were out of his mouth before he realised he'd said them. “I didn’t even know a cat steals bones.”

This time Tybalt did hit him, then pushed himself away from the crime scene. “I told you not to call me a cat!”

Mercutio relented. “I’m sorry….. master.” And Tybalt’s shoulders slumped. His features softened again.

“I don’t have the time for this.” The man cursed and collected his belongings in a bag. He called for Peter to help him take it out, then, before locking the door to his rooms, told the two brothers to behave.

“If I come back to see one of you attempted to escape or god forbid, trying to hang yourself, then punishments await. However, if you behave…” he didn’t finish his sentence and threw Mercutio one last look.

“I’m not done with you, Cutio.”

Mercutio snorted, but he was glad once the sound of a key scraping was heard and the door was locked. At least they were together, he thought, and pulled Valentine close.

“We’re not getting out.” Valentine said, head hanging, but Mercutio was reluctant to give up on that thought.

“Once I regain my strength we will break out of this place and we’ll elope to Great Britain.” He saw the look on his sibling’s face. “Or….. somewhere…. Look, it doesn’t matter where as long as we’ll be far away from this place. As long as we can live.”

“And be traumatized elsewhere?”

“Val, we’re in danger here. There are still so many things they can do to hurt you.”

Valentine waved his words away. “Mercutio, did you hear what you just said? That there are so many things they can do to me. To me. What about you?”

Mercutio pressed his lips into a tight line. “There’s nothing they can do to me to break me any further.”

“Then your careful quarrels with our master Tybalt were no sign of improvement either.” Valentine said dryly.

They were quiet for a moment.

“I can’t have him harm you.” Mercutio finally said.

“And you can’t always sacrifice yourself to protect me. I will go to sleep on the floor again tonight.”

“Be careful that you don’t lie there too attractively.” Mercutio grumbled under his breath. “You actually looked cute with your hair all tousled this morning. So vulnerable.” His breath hitched. “He may not see you like that and become tempted.”

“I will sleep unattractively, big brother.” Valentine urged.

Peter smiled behind the keyhole and turned away from the room.


	5. Tybalt returns home

“The younger boy will be asleep on the carpet again tonight.” Peter told Tybalt once the man returned home.

The hour was near midnight.

“Thank you, Peter.” Tybalt replied, then handed him an empty wine cup. Truth was it had been filled with water just before as he’d taken his medicine.

“Damn, tonight was a hard night.” He complained as he plopped onto the couch.

“Did lord Badacci not please you with amusing tales, master Tybalt?” Peter inquired carefully.

“Oh, he did.” Tybalt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Juliet was there with Gustave and it was pure torment to watch them share their meal together. Feeding each other from their spoons.” He made a yuck sound.

“What’s the use of this all? What’s left for me, Peter?” He looked at his manservant who looked back at him in earnest.

“A man and a boy, master,” he replied, “in your bedroom.”

Tybalt let out a dry laugh.

Peter was always right.

 

* * *

 

When the door opened he was greeted by the sight of Mercutio leaning casually against a column of the four poster bed. As if he waited there for Tybalt purposely.

The Capulet grunted at him and locked the door behind him, then brushed his way past the other man and into the adjacent room to do his toiletries. Mercutio waited patiently for him to return.

Then, after a while, Tybalt came out of the bathroom with his hair tousled and a hand to his forehead. “I don’t feel very well.” He said and Mercutio smirked.

“Can I soothe you, master?” He purred.

 _No, this went all too smooth_. What was he playing at? Tybalt eyed him warily.

“Like I said before, pet,” Mercutio’s grin turned sour as Tybalt addressed him by that nickname, but his grin didn’t fade. He'd always been one for acting and quite good at pretending. Tybalt's voice was hoarse when he spoke again. “You will not change into an obedient little slave in just one day. I don't believe that. Now out with it. What are you playing at?”

Tybalt sat down on the edge of the bed and started to take off his boots. He cast a short glance at the other side of the bed to see a puff of red curls on the carpet. Valentine must be already asleep then? Good, his voice was husky from all the talk and drink that night so he was unlikely to rouse the young boy with it.

Mercutio stepped into his field of vision, forcing the attention back on him. “I’m not likely to change into a ‘little’ slave, master Tybalt.”

Damn, that actually sounded good from his tongue.

He licked his lips as he bent closer to the Capulet. “You can hardly call me little with my size.”

“You’re reduced to nothing and still you boast about size.” Tybalt growled his reply. His gloved hands reached up for the other man and he pulled him down by the hem of the shirt so their noses touched.

“If you want size I can lent you some. But I’m sure to take it back after I’ve had my fill.”

The low grunt of Tybalt did nothing to hide the intention behind his words. He pulled Mercutio down with him to the bed and roamed gloved hands through the messy mop of red hair. Mercutio didn’t put up a struggle and instead welcomed the hungry kisses that were pressed against his mouth. He even parted his lips to give Tybalt entrance.

The Capulet was consumed by lust and didn’t notice how compliant his slave was. A dark-clad leg, long and slender, hooked itself round the bare legs of the slave. A foot in a grey sock pressed underneath the white shirt of Mercutio and against his bare backside. Hands were roaming everywhere.

A small bulge pushing the white fabric of the shirt outward betrayed that Mercutio did not remain unaffected by his master’s actions, and Tybalt grinned when he felt something hard press against his abdomen.

“I already thought you wouldn’t object to my offer.” He said.

Mercutio frowned but Tybalt rolled him off of him and leant on his elbow on the bed. “Lie down on your back, Mercutio.”

Mercutio did as he was told and watched with big questioning eyes as Tybalt fumbled with his belt and started to undress himself.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Tybalt grunted. “You’re not innocent.”

Mercutio chose to ignore that comment. He had no idea his gaze could bother the other man so.

“Do you need help?” He caught himself slipping up and quickly rectified his mistake. “Master?”

“Shush you,” Tybalt grunted as he struggled with the last of his remaining garments. “You don’t speak unless spoken to, get it, Mercutio?”

Mercutio nodded and waited patiently.

Tybalt studied the sprawled figure on his bed and shook his head. “Why are you so compliant? Why are you so quiet!” he demanded.

The slave jumped slightly at the harsh tone and the way Tybalt raised his voice. But he chose not to reply.

“It doesn’t matter.” Tybalt held a hand to his own face and took a deep breath. “Take off your shirt.”

The sight that met him was one of absolute obedience. Mercutio slowly peeled the shirt off, making a show of it that was both erotic as well as disturbing. Tybalt’s eye twitched.

“You want it that bad, boy?”

Mercutio, delighted by the way Tybalt’s eyes glinted in the dark and the absence of nicknames such as ‘slave’ or ‘pet’ forgot his place for a moment.

“Want it bad to be punished for my beauty? To be told my place because of my allure? Sure, I want nothing more than to be banged by the man who used to call himself the enemy. Although, a boy could want a man, but instead he finds a cat trapping him to the bed.”

A rough slap to his face followed before teeth were biting his neck. He cried out. Tybalt hissed in his ear. “You’re a slow learner. The only pet we have here is a fox with his claws taken from him and his fur taken as decoration.”

Mercutio huffed. “His fur taken to decorate a cat.”

“A cat in disguise you call me now?” Tybalt’s eyes twinkled.

“I’d never dream of it, master.”

“Good, you’re learning.”

“Please,” Tybalt halted and looked down at the boy pleading underneath him. His eyes were closed and his lips were slightly moving making it appear like there was no whisper at all. “ _Please, don’t hurt me._ ”

“Oh, I will hurt you, Mercutio.” Tybalt whispered in his ear. “But from now on I’ll be the only one with that privilege.”

Tybalt then rolled off of him and they both fell silent. For a moment there was a cutting tension in the air. Then Mercutio realised that Tybalt was lying next to him on his side, his back to him, and he frowned. Feeling dejected, Mercutio turned his head to look at him and parted his lips in an unvoiced question. He was torn between the decision of scooting closer or remaining where he was.

“Have I displeased my master?” He dared to ask.

“Go to sleep, Cutio.” A rough voice ordered him.

Mercutio blinked, clearly confused.

Tybalt groaned. “You did nothing to displease your master.” He licked his lips then said, “I'm just tired.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I am letting you know via this way, dear readers, that I am suffering from RSI on both arms for already two months now. Which means I can't write much.  
> This story was started before my arm injury (which I got from working too much and bad fysio) and the chapters I am uploading are what I'd already written. It isn't finished yet.  
> There might come a moment when you will have to wait longer than usual for a next chapter, also because when things get a bit better and I'll be able to write on one of my stories again, it'll probably be on the story I had initially intended to post first and which I want to give as a present to a friend of mine. Therefore, this story is second in my queue of things I need to be writing and I apologize for that. But then you're prepared in case the wait gets a little longer.


	6. Sometimes they forget Valentine

Two days had passed and a pattern had begun to develop in the Capulet household. At the break of dawn, Tybalt would get out of bed and leave the room, locking the two slaves inside. Valentine would be the first to wash, Mercutio would be next. They’d been given clothes similar to the ones they used to wear before their capture, which was a relief. Their food was still brought in bowls but they ate it gratefully anyway.

They had breakfast and lunch together and in between they’d talk about ways to escape. Valentine worried about Mercutio’s health and healing wounds, and Mercutio in turn would worry about Valentine’s well-being and emotional scars. They’d both cuddle on Tybalt’s bed and afterwards they’d explore the room. Though after two days they knew every item their master owned and their proper places. It seemed Tybalt had quite a neat system and was used to order. His clothes were crisp and ironed. He kept his pills and medicines in a drawer at his desk.

Mercutio sat at that very desk and toyed with one of the bottles. “It’s a sad thing, actually.” He said softly to the air. His brother responded though by giving a sigh. “It’s sad that he needs this to get along in life.”

He put the bottle back in the drawer and closed it, then looked up at himself in the mirror. His mop of red hair was hanging listlessly on his head, probably due to the washing it received not long before. He still looked pale, but the red lines beneath his eyes were vanishing which was something he rejoiced in.

“It must be hard to be in pain so often and sometimes so unexpectedly while others expect you to be at your best twenty-four-seven. Any moment his attacks could be fatal. He could be in the middle of a fight and someone could easily slaughter him, or he could fall and hit his head.”

Valentine’s blue eyes pierced Mercutio’s and the latter could see the disapproval in the former one’s eyes. “We’re not going to meddle with his medicines, brother. I’d rather not kill him to get out of here.”

Mercutio brought his hands to his own face and rubbed his eyes while letting out an audible sigh. “Tempering with his medicine might be one of the only ways to get out of here.”

“And the key?” Valentine suggested. “Have you thought of that? If Tybalt lies dead or spitting saliva it won’t do us any good if we don’t have the key to get out of the room. And once we get out we have all the servants to avoid, the Capulets themselves, the guards, everyone in this town unless we’re so excellently disguised that they mistake us for tourists. And we’re not, Cutio. They will know our faces and they will hand us back to Tybalt or worse.”

The gloomy expression on the older brother’s face made Valentine shut up and turn away silently. Mercutio made a fist and returned to staring at his reflection in the mirror.

Tybalt didn’t took advantage of him the second night of their stay.

In fact he had bluntly turned him down when he had willingly offered his body. And that had been done when the Capulet had been excited, Mercutio had felt it and seen it. But Tybalt had chosen to go to bed to sleep instead of the expected Rumpy Pumpy. Somehow it had hurt Mercutio, who wasn’t used to being refused, especially not when his body was the thing he’d offered. Did it hurt to be turned down? And why? He didn’t know and it bothered him.

The night that had followed, however, he’d been taken by his master again. Tybalt had turned it all into quite a show, being gentle and willing to stretch it all that night. The Capulet’s hands had caressed his skin with long, gentle swipes when he took off the red haired man’s clothes. He had bestowed his body with kisses and had roamed his hands past the tender white flesh and the many scars and blueprints the boy carried as evidence of his misfortune.

He had suckled the raw skin on Mercutio’s chest where once his knife had entered the boy’s ribcage and almost had meant the end. Then he had whispered how grateful he was that the boy had lived – that they had both survived – and that he was glad he had received this gift from God: this boy he craved and nearly killed but who was now his to have.

And Mercutio had not known what to make of it.

Should he feel flattered or honoured that his former enemy had now become his master? Should he be glad that he survived only to become imprisoned and abused? Was any of it really worth it?

Yes, he thought as he closed his eyes and Tybalt softly oiled him in preparation. It was worth it because only alive he would be able to protect Valentine.

After Tybalt’s gentle love-making - for there was no other way to call it - Mercutio had hobbled out of the bed and opened the bathroom door to tell Valentine he could come in now. The boy slept on the carpet on the floor at Mercutio’s side of the bed. Tybalt hardly seemed to notice him and for this Mercutio was glad.

The night after, Tybalt had not been so compassionate and instead had pushed Mercutio up against the wall the moment he’d entered his room. Hands had tangled in the boy’s hair, fingers curled tightly around the strands, tugging, and fingertips massaged his scalp.

Mercutio didn’t get the chance to say anything, whether kind or challenging, for Tybalt shouted at him that evening at every given opportunity. He shouted for the boy to get on the bed, to undress, to get on his knees and then hands had tangled in his hair again and his face had been forced upon Tybalt’s shaft. It didn’t last long before Tybalt pulled him up and he was roughly thrown on the bed. The man was all over him and soon he was bouncing back and forth by Tybalt’s rough movements. When he’d turned his head he’d caught the scared eyes of Valentine and he found it hard to breath. Was that a look of repulsion? Why was Valentine seeing this? Why had they forgotten him?

But what could he do but to clench his teeth and let Tybalt have his way with him? Once the Capulet collapsed on top of him, and he felt the sticky reminder of what had just been done drip from between his legs, he dared to look at his sibling again.

Valentine smiled at him encouragingly, as if to say it was all okay. But they both knew it was not.

And now, as Mercutio sat in front of the mirror studying his reflection, he was reminded of all of this. He could see Valentine behind him, his back turned to him, and he felt sick to the stomach. This was all wrong.

“I always thought you liked him. Perhaps loved him even.” The sudden confession seemed to shake him out of his thoughts and he turned in his chair to look at the boy. “The way you spoke of him…. You didn’t even hate him when you nearly died.”

Mercutio let out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. How was he going to explain this one? “You must have caught that all wrong, Val. I never hated him. Loving him? I loved to tease him. And I think in my own little mind I made myself believe that he loved it when I teased him too. But in the real world? I think I just annoyed him.”

Valentine cracked a smile and Mercutio couldn’t help but to grin crookedly when he saw this. Then he seemed to remember something and clapped his hands on his upper legs. “Ah, and when he nearly killed me he was trying to stab Romeo so I can forgive him for that.”

His brother laughed now as well, and so they were found both laughing by Tybalt when he opened the door and stepped into the room.

“I find the two brothers Escalus in a laughing fit.” The man muttered as if annoyed, but his eyes sparkled with delight. He was secretly enjoying the sight in front of him. He threw his coat to the side and walked over to his bed. “What did I do to you, good Lord above, to deserve such unholy punishments?”

He dropped ungracefully onto the bed and leant backwards on his elbows.

Mercutio grinned at him. “It seems poor master has had a dreadfully dull day and is being punished unfairly by his god.”

“Did I ask for you to speak, slave?” Tybalt snapped back at him. But the grin on his face betrayed that he was enjoying Mercutio’s unruly behaviour.

“And you, boy, come over here and help me to my drink.” He gestured at Valentine. The boy stepped forth with a glass of water in his hand which he delicately offered to the Capulet. Tybalt eyed Mercutio warily, over the shoulder of Valentine, before taking the glass of water from the younger brother and propping some pills hastily into his mouth. He washed it down with the water.

The empty glass was given back to Valentine who was shushed away. But before Valentine could so much as move two steps he found Tybalt’s gloved hand caressing his cheek and he froze. Behind him, Mercutio sat tensed in the chair and looked at his master and brother with fear in his eyes, ready to jump, his hands gripped the sides of the chair and his lips pulled into a snarl.

“Such a pretty boy,” Tybalt mumbled. His finger traced the line of Valentine’s cheek. “You’re trembling from fear? From my touch?” He wondered. Valentine refused to look him in the eye and he finally let go of the boy, allowing him to return the empty glass to a tray on a far corner table.

“You.” Tybalt suddenly focussed his attention back on Mercutio and frowned. “Why are you all so tensed up? Relax and get a stretch to those muscles or I might tear them tonight.”

Mercutio tried to take on a unperturbed pose but the adrenaline that pumped through his body could not be hidden no matter how good of an actor he was. Tybalt grimaced at him and Mercutio forced a smile.

The Capulet ran a hand through his long, black hair. “There’s a meeting this noon. I want for you to come along with me.”

Mercutio looked surprised at Tybalt and considered his words. He was very eager to know why he was asked along and curious to know what it would be about. But he could not ask and risk impertinence.

“Yes, master.”

Tybalt waited for a moment, then said. “Well, aren’t you going to complain or taunt me like is your habit?”

Mercutio seemed to consider this. “Tempting as it is…… I am still your  _humble_ slave, master.”

Tybalt smirked at him. “That’s right.” But there was something in his eyes that betrayed he missed Mercutio’s open and free teasing of him. He’d grown so used to it that it was hard to see Mercutio actually behave for once.


	7. The List

They entered the Capulet terrace, the one at their former lair before they'd taken over the city, which was quite wide in size and offered wonderful views of the large garden that lay ahead. It was a rarity in the city of Verona to have such an amount of space and to have it cared for so meticulously. The house of Capulet had always prided themselves when it came to gardens and what they called ‘heavens of green’. Mercutio assumed there must have been a history to all of this.

“Pleasure you could make it, Tybalt. Punctual as ever.” Lady Capulet greeted them as they approached and bowed slightly. She offered her hand to Tybalt who took it and placed a kiss on her knuckles. A small smile reached her lips and she shyly looked away to gesture at the chairs round a small table. There were only two chairs, Mercutio noted.

Lady Capulet didn’t even glance at Mercutio who stood next to his master with his head bowed. Oh, but he was peaking. Of course he was! She didn’t even look at him. She didn’t.

The lady sat herself at one end of the round table with her back to the scenery the outside had to offer them. She was facing the house and facing Tybalt who sat opposite of her.

Warm arms pulled him onto his master’s lap and Mercutio flushed. But judging by the lack of reaction of those around him he supposed it was considered normal to do this with a slave in public.

It became even more awkward to him when the male servant, Peter, appeared with a list in his hand and made himself comfortable by standing next to Lady Capulet. Two maids brought tea and slices of cake which they placed on the table. Tybalt’s grip on Mercutio tightened until the boy relaxed in his hold. Mercutio wasn’t going anywhere. He would just play along and pretend he was a good doll.

“Let’s have a look at the statistics. My dear husband, who now has rule over Verona, has had a list compiled to see who are inhabiting our city.” She sipped from her drink.

“Handy.” Tybalt remarked. He eyed her cautiously and she flashed him a smile.

“Let us start out with the most interesting and more important part. The enemies we used to deal with. The Montague scum and those who supported them have been put in their proper places and many have been taken out of the city.”

Mercutio gritted his teeth but at the tightening of Tybalt’s arm around him he tried to relax – or at least appear to be calm physically. The way Lady Capulet spoke so airily about such grave matters hurt his heart.

“How many Montagues are left?” Tybalt’s asked.

And Mercutio wondered. Why had Tybalt taken him along today? He knew he’d asked him about the fate of his friends many times. Was it because he didn’t know or did he know but didn’t dare to tell Mercutio? Whatever it was, he was now witness of the discussion of what had become of the citizens of Verona. His uncle would cringe and twist in his grave if he’d heard any of this.

“It says 36 are still in the city.” Lady Capulet said.

“That’s still a lot, isn’t it?” Tybalt said with a nod of the head.

“If you consider there were 96 then I suppose it is. But they have their uses.”

“What with the Lord and Lady dead it is no wonder. I’m still surprised there are so many left.” Peter said.

Lady Capulet smiled at him. “They are all moulded to be good household slaves, most famously Romeo who has fallen into the care of my daughter and her husband Gustave. It took my men five days to find a total of 8 Montagues and 12 Montague supporters who had been hiding. Two Montagues are still listed as missing but with the recovery of those two bodies from the lake yesterday I suppose their disappearance will not be a mystery for long.”

Tybalt could feel the man on his lap tense again and knew the question that must be troubling the young man’s brain. He decided to act on it by extracting the information subtlety.

“I heard you had a change of heart.” He said.

Lady Capulet guffawed and shook her head. She almost spilled her drink.

“Thought you’d said never to keep a Montague close. Yet the staff said you have a new pet.” Tybalt watched Lady Capulet rub the palm of her hand against her cheek.

“Oh, you mustn’t listen to such gossip.” She replied smilingly. “Or indeed not listen to any word of a woman at all. I did keep one on the Montagues. At least till I’m bored with it.”

Mercutio was insulted to hear her refer to a human as an ‘it’. Wasn’t that what all slaves were reduced to? And who did she keep?

“Let’s continue the list.” She said to Mercutio’s dislike. “We got A to Z here, all caught, turned-in or otherwise punished for their crimes. The Abinees are of course a special case with their loyal support to the prince. All others are hefty supporters of the Montagues. Or well, they were.” She pointed at the list which was held by Peter and now presented in such a way that Tybalt could read it.

Mercutio could too.

“The Escalus family?” Tybalt said with a frown

It was odd but it irked Mercutio how his presence was ignored in this conversation. Lady Capulet didn’t seem to notice him once despite him being part of the topic that was being discussed.

“Oh no, they’re gone.” Lady Capulet waved her hand through the air while Mercutio felt a pang of angst. And why wasn’t she looking at him? He was there. He was an Escalus for God’s sake! And his sibling! Why weren’t they on the list?

“I understood Count Paris was still in town when we had our battle?” Mercutio knew Tybalt was pushing her for information but she either didn’t mind or really didn’t notice.

“Paris is gone. Decapitated. And naturally the prince had to go too. The Escalus family is extinct.” She gestured at Tybalt. “Apart from the two kept by you.”

Lady Capulet seemed to think of something and then leant closer to the table. She hummed. “Truly Tybalt. I can understand why you would take them in but if you ever grow bored of them then you might consider selling them or submitting them to our special slave-for-trade club. I put mine in it once they bore me and get another in return. It’s trading them for other slaves submitted to the pool. It’s a great way to gain pleasure.”

Mercutio felt his stomach turn. That one time at the ball he had scooped her up in his arms, carried her into the hallway and tempted her until she had enough and ravaged him. And all to give Romeo his time with Juliet.

Stupid. So stupid of him. But he could tell by the look in her eyes that she remembered and that she might one day seek that pleasure again. She basically asked Tybalt to make him into a whore.

Tybalt caught the look in her eyes and sounded less than pleased. “I’d consider it. But Mercutio is already damaged goods.”

“How damaged?”

“You must have heard he’s been taken by a gang. Giovanni set them no limits.”

Lady Capulet frowned and though she did not look at Mercutio, the latter could see something closely resembling pity in her eyes. Could she feel? Was his world shaken once more by the impossible happening? Could Lady Capulet have feelings at all? Or was she just disappointed that she would not get to fuck him again anytime soon? He tried to hide his smile. This was all too absurd.

“Getting him in the pool or selling him off will be a tough challenge then.” She concluded stiffly. “You might better think of wearing him out.” Then after a moment of hesitation. “But consider it for his brother.”

Mercutio’s eyes hardened but he couldn’t show his discontentment otherwise. Tybalt’s gloved hand ran down his face, stroking from his hair down to his waist, and caressed him comfortingly. Did she notice? But no, Lady Capulet’s eyes were on Peter, not on them.

“I will.” Tybalt said, his voice a hoarse rasp.

“Well then, now that you’re brought up to date you’ll be excused.”

Mercutio was gently pushed off Tybalt’s lap and stood clumsily by his side, waiting for the other man to say his goodbyes. Tybalt drained his tea and gave Lady Capulet a hug before taking Mercutio by the hand and dragging him away.

“You don’t need to ask, pretty.” He said once they were out of earshot.

Mercutio raised a brow at the new nickname and was about to comment on it when he felt Tybalt squeeze his hand tighter. They came to a halt and he was pulled in front of the other man, having Tybalt caress his face with both hands and looking at Mercutio’s lips hungrily.

They were close. So close.

He could feel the other’s body heat burn into him.

“You wanted to know what had become of your friends so I took you along. This was a kindness on my behalf but don’t expect me to always treat you gently. This was a one-off event, understood?”

Mercutio nodded in his hands. “Yes, master.” The words came out creakily for his lips had gone dry and he licked them. He noticed the way his master inched closer to him, leaning in for a kiss, studying his dry lips with dark eyes that sent a shiver down Mercutio’s spine.

“Understand your place, Cutio.” Tybalt whispered, his breath tickling the boy’s skin. It happened without Mercutio thinking, but his lips parted, he anticipated the kiss.

And then Tybalt’s hands were gone and the man was walking a few steps ahead of him. “Are you coming, boy?” He gruffly asked.

Confused, Mercutio followed in a hurried tread. There was still a slight limp to his walk – one that Tybalt regretted for he loved to see the boy dance and to see his supple body move around with the grace of a swan- but any elegance was gone. For now. It was a pained step but one done without a pained expression.  _No_ , Mercutio was  _even smiling_ a little.

“What?” The older one asked when he turned to face his slave.

“What, master?” Mercutio feigned ignorance and blinked cutely at his master.

“What are you grinning at, you idiot!”

“I love it when you snarl, master. It makes you look menacingly attractive.” Mercutio chuckled and received a slap on his head. “Ouch.” He dramatically said, then rubbed his head for extra effect.

“I look menacingly dangerous to anyone but a fool.” Tybalt snarled and Mercutio, pointing at him, couldn’t help but to laugh. “You will learn your place, dog.” The man said with snarl. “Or you might end up like your friend Benvolio.” His voice grew silent. “Or Romeo.”

Now Mercutio had stopped laughing and was looking at him in earnest. “What happened to them? What cruel fate have they suffered,  _master_ ?”

Tybalt was taking a few deep breaths and for a moment Mercutio feared he was going to have one of his epileptic attacks. But then he turned to face him, a hand on his chest as if he was in pain but not carrying the lines on his face that showed he was suffering from his epileptic pains.

“Romeo was badly injured before he was given to Juliet as a pet. And Benvolio,” He clicked his tongue and let his eyes roll up to the sky above them, “he’s kept in the Capulet home,” he turned to walk again, “as Lady Capulet’s new lover.”

“What?” Mercutio was at his side within an instant but a long arm pushed him back.

“A slave walks three steps behind his master.”

“Tybalt?” Mercutio grabbed for the man’s sleeve but was pushed back again by an enraged Capulet.

“I’m not playing games, fool. There’s no you and I on an equal level. There’s just me and nobody.”

Mercutio hung his head and allowed for a distance of three steps to grow between them before following Tybalt’s footsteps. “You’ve always been alone, haven’t you, Tybalt?”

“Shut up, buffoon.” The other only muttered.

“If you’d allowed me to love you,” Mercutio said, his voice low but audible for the other man, “you would not have had to be lonely.”

Tybalt’s breath hitched in his throat. “How dare you?” He said, not yelling this time but still reprimanding the boy. “How dare you make assumptions?” But he remained quiet for the rest of their walk home and Mercutio somehow knew that the attraction he’d felt all along had been mutual.

And probably still was.


	8. Return to Daily Life

Valentine had been given chores in the kitchen, for which Mercutio was grateful. It meant his brother only had to deal with the cook who was an elderly woman with kind eyes. Mercutio had seen her once, before the feud came to an end, and he’d never had any troubles with her. Another relief was the fact that no one ever ventured into the kitchen except for the Nurse who, despite Juliet having been married, still occupied her position in the residence. She was kept on in case Juliet got a baby - or so the rumour said. Though they all knew that the Nurse was too old by now to be a wet-nurse for a crying little infant.

Mercutio was told to sit on a chair near Tybalt’s desk. Tybalt was seated in front of him and threw a few documents onto Mercutio’s legs. The young man looked at them and frowned.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a test.” Tybalt said, then added, “And it’s: What’s this, master.”

“What’s this, _master_?”

The Capulet eyed his slave but could not comment on the way he’d been addressed. He was certain that Mercutio was mocking him but it might only be a feeling. “These are tests results.”

“Of what, master?”

“Rather of whom.” Tybalt shifted in his seat and pointed at the files. “They belong to me. After our little intimacies I’ve decided to have myself checked, seeing as you’ve had so many men screw you.”

Mercutio flinched.

“This is to check how many deceases they transmitted to you and then probably to me.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Well?” Mercutio finally said and expected a punch for his insolence. But no punishment followed.

“All clean.”

Mercutio let out an audible sigh.

“But you, on the other hand, we’re not certain about. I will have you checked, just in case. And I will have a doctor examine you.” Tybalt said, pointing at the other man. “It seems to me there might still be some damage down below.”

Mercutio panicked but try to laugh it away. “They say fruit ripens before it turns into a delicacy.”

“They say it ripens,” Tybalt said through gritted teeth, “not that it’s torn.”

Mercutio winced again.

“I’m not making a joke, pretty. I’m having you checked. Your appointment is tomorrow and Peter will escort you. In the meanwhile I want you to tell me how much they did to your brother.”

“Valentine?” Mercutio’s voice skipped a notch, then he lowered his head and his voice turned to a whisper. “He’s still untouched, master.”

Tybalt hummed. “I see.”

When the younger man raised his head to look at his master their eyes met. The question was visible in Mercutio’s eyes. “He’s been lucky.” Tybalt continued nonchalantly. “For such a pretty boy to remain untouched….. Well, it can’t be his young age. Others have been less fortunate. No, it must be due to some kind of protector.”

The young man’s shoulder slumped and his head hung in shame. Tybalt noticed this. “How many times did you offer yourself to keep your brother safe?”

“As many times as was necessary.” The red-haired man confessed.

“And how many times was that, I wonder?”

Tybalt was sitting too close to him. It didn’t help that the raven-haired man had reached out a hand to touch him. Though they were comforting touches of a gloved hand against his skin, they were still distressing to the younger one for he knew that despite the gentleness Tybalt’s spirit was one of fire and he was easily inflamed. Jealousy, possessiveness, hatred. Mercutio knew his master had expressed them all when he was concerned.

“I can’t remember.”

Tybalt’s eyes narrowed and his touches become fiercer. “Whatever they have done to you I would make them pay for if I could. They’re out of my reach now. But if they set foot inside of Verona again I will make sure they receive their proper reward: hell.”

The man stood up and turned away, then he continued speaking. “Let me make myself clear. I will not touch you sexually until you're clean and healed. Also, I will not sexually harm your brother while you’re away tomorrow. You have my word on this. Besides,” Wait, was Tybalt smiling as he spoke to Mercutio over his shoulder?

“I wouldn’t risk the wrath of his older brother.”

He was.

Mercutio thought Tybalt was smiling and he grinned now as well. He couldn’t help it.

To get Tybalt’s word would have meant nothing to him in the past. It still didn’t do much to reassure him that his brother would be safe here when he was gone tomorrow. But still, he should at least accept it as a gesture of willingness, of kindness, from his master. And that last part – it was a little joke. Did Tybalt still have his humour then? (The humour Mercutio had always accused him of to be lacking, but it had all been for show because one of the reasons Mercutio loved teasing Tybalt so much was because of his humour).

“Thank you, master.” Mercutio bowed his head again.

“You can go and help Peter with the laundry now. Bring it up here and iron it.”

Mercutio didn’t know why he had to do the ironing up in Tybalt’s room, but he suspected it had to do with Tybalt wanting company. Though he worked in silence.

Tybalt was seated behind his desk and doing some kind of paperwork - Mercutio had never thought him to be capable to do such serious and imperative tasks. The man seemed to feel comfortable with Mercutio around, and Mercutio decided to pretend he was comfortable with the situation as well.

Though he was horrible at doing domestic chores.

Ironing was definitely one of the things his servants had always done for him so to have to do it himself was rather a challenge. Once he thought he was getting the hang of it – Hey, those crinkles were less crooked and there was only one little hole burnt into Tybalt’s blouse- he started to hum, as was his habit when he was feeling at ease.

The humming wasn’t necessarily loud, but within the silence of the room it was drawing attention. Tybalt looked up from his work and steadied the pair of glasses he wore on top of his nose. “Pretty, I did not ask for a musician to entertain me during my tough chores.”

Mercutio was still humming but at the words of his master he opened his eyes, looked at him, and stopped. He hung his head and continued ironing in silence.

Tybalt instantly regretted his harsh words. True, in the past Mercutio would have laughed at him and would have challenged whatever he said. He’d probably have hummed louder or would even have started singing.

Not to mention that Tybalt was actually curious to the song the other man had hummed. Did he know it? It seemed to faintly ring a bell.

With a feeling of disappointment, more of himself than of anything else, he turned his attention back to the paperwork in front of him. By repositioning his glasses he had a better view and though he was loathe to admit he needed them for his sight, he was glad that he had them.

He didn’t care now that Mercutio had seen him wearing them. Mercutio was no prince anymore. He was no dangerous heir of their throne. He was a nobody, a slave. And more importantly he was his slave. His.

A raw laugh escape him from the back of his throat and he could hear the younger man stop his actions for a moment. Then the ironing continued and Tybalt bend over his work with a sly smile.

“Life couldn’t be better.” He hummed. But Mercutio, as a good slave, did not comment on it.


	9. Fear

The next day arrived quickly and agile and Mercutio noticed that he was nervous. He was sweating and his palms left traces on the surfaces of each object that he touched. Naturally Tybalt was having a day at home, which he rarely had before, and which unnerved the poor boy even more. The Capulet sat on his chair near his desk, reading a book, and seemed to take delight in having Mercutio close and doing domestic chores in his bedroom.

And Mercutio was worried. Though the test outcomes worried him too – how many men had he slept with and how rough had they been? Surely there had been blood and other bodily fluids involved. And wounds, so many wounds- but the prospect of having to leave his younger sibling behind where he could not watch over him and protect him; that was troubling him the most. Carefully picking up a book, his fingers left another little lake on the cover. He silently prayed that Tybalt wouldn't notice, but his master kept sending him glances and the silent prayer went unheard.

“Are your palms wet?” The Capulet asked, voice gruff. Mercutio was already wiping his hands on his trousers.

“It must have rained, _master_.”

Tybalt smirked. “Judging by your use of sarcasm I suppose they are. Nervous, pet?”

The boy's cheeks coloured and he quickly uttered a 'no', realizing he replied a tad too swiftly. “I mean, no, I'm not nervous,  _my dear master._ Why should I be nervous? It's not like poor Mercutio's ever been ill in live before so why should he carry a disease now?”

“Really, for a boy who's never been picky with who he slept with you seem to have been a whole damn lucky.”

Tybalt's comment silenced him, at least for a little, and he fumed. The gaze he bestowed upon his master spoke volumes. “I can  _feel_ you glaring.” The latter calmly said whilst flipping a page of his book. “Out with it.”

Having been given permission to speak seemed to unlock a train of piled up frustrations and Mercutio pointed at the ceiling as he did his speech. “For all the fun I've had in my past lifetime I never just dove underneath the sheets with a random passenger. I really did look at their faces or at their hands and I really did choose who I found pleasing, unlike what you seemed to have heard of me. It weren't nearly as many as Benvolio had and certainly not as many as Romeo's had.”

Tybalt wrapped his arms around the boy's waist and pulled him onto his lap, nuzzling him close. “I hear,” he said, shushing the boy with his low voice, warning him not to continue his rambling.

“You're doing a good job defending your virtue. I had not meant it as an insult.”

“I mean, I only had this disease once, and it wasn't so bad....” Mercutio silently lamented. But Tybalt hushed him again and rested his head on the boy's shoulder. “Don't worry too much. If the doctor's find something they will cure you.”

'Unless they can't,' Mercutio thought worriedly, and a whole new fear gripped him. If he was infectious and Tybalt was clean, Tybalt wouldn't want to fuck him any longer, would he? Not until he was cured? And would he then resort to-

He looked away. All his fear was now for Valentine.

“Here, enough work done.” It was his master who had spoken, a man nearly his age, slightly older, the lean and slender shape of a boy. Isn't it odd, Mercutio mused silently, how things had ended for them. He, in the hands of his enemy, in the hands of his crush, being crushed by the hardships of life time after time again. How had things turned out to be so wrong?

He looked up at his master, eyelashes fluttering, and saw how Tybalt drew a deep breath through his teeth. Apparently his looks had some effect on the man. “Get cleaned up and be prepared. Peter will escort you to the doctor in ten minutes.”

Mercutio bowed and with a 'thank you, master,' he sprinted into the bathroom, eager to get away. His nerves once again betrayed by the lack of teasing.

Tybalt bit the inside of his cheek and watched the boy get away, then called for one of the maids to come to his aid. Peter arrived shortly after and escorted a very nervous Mercutio out of the house.

When Mercutio arrived home later that day he was relieved to find Valentine still working in the kitchen. His sibling had been given orders to clean Tybalt's collection of swords and was polishing furiously when Mercutio entered. The young man ran a hand through his unruly hair and sighed. The smaller boy looked up and cast him a faint smile. “You look worse for wear, brother.”

“I know,” Mercutio grunted, and let himself fall back in a chair. He knew he was pale and that dark circles had appeared under his eyes. “It's been quite a wrecking day.”

“Did they give you the results yet?” Valentine looked at him cautiously but continued rubbing the sword with the same amount of passion as he'd bestowed upon it when his older brother had entered the kitchen.

“Naah!” Mercutio rubbed his eyes and sighed a heavy sigh. His arms felt like a rag doll's arms and he let them hang at the sides of the chair. In this manner he slumped in his seat and tried to regain some of his energy. “That'll come sooner or later.”

Valentine remained quiet but his inquiring gaze never left Mercutio, despite the rapid motions of the young boy's hands on the sword.

Mercutio swallowed, his throat dry. “But they did some thorough examination and I got me some stitches and some medicine. Hurray.” That last part definitely wasn't as jolly as the word should have sounded.

“I get it.” Valentine suddenly stood up from his chair and deftly placed the sword he'd been handling on the kitchen table, then walked over to fetch his brother a glass of water which he pushed into his hands. “Looks like you need it.” Was all the explanation he gave.

Mercutio drank from it, greedily and gratefully, and Valentine presented him a little smile. “Are you okay now?” He asked from his position at the other side of the table. The boy had placed his hands underneath his chin as he watched his older brother drink with eyes closed.

Happy to be recovering, Mercutio placed the empty glass aside and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “More than okay. I'm just glad to be back.” His green eyes sought those of Valentine and the unspoken 'back with you' hung heavy in the air.

His master was gentle with him that night and seemed understanding, touching his head with a feather-light touches of his fingertips, placing a chaste kiss at the corner of his lips, and not demanding much of him or of his brother.

They went to bed early and Mercutio silently thanked whatever god there might exist for the peaceful evening. As Tybalt wrapped an arm around him he could see Valentine's hair spread across the carpet and smiled, knowing his brother was already asleep.


	10. Maria

Afternoon was announced by the rays of sun that now reached into the back of Tybalt's bedroom. Mercutio was seated at the desk, doing nothing much but reading a small book that Tybalt had permitted him to look into. Several days had passed since the doctor's visit and Mercutio's stitches had been removed. He was healing and he was grateful for the standard pattern that had taken place each and every day in silence: Tybalt leaving for work, Valentine in the kitchen, and he doing whatever silly task the other servants had come up with for him.

And now he sat at the desk with a book. It was something about etiquettes or another – he really couldn't be bothered. All he did was act as if he read, because otherwise he would be sent on another chore again and it felt good to sit and give his feet some rest after helping the gardener out in the garden.

Apparently Tybalt put value in his judgement on how to rearrange the garden. His uncle's garden, he reminded himself, where the Capulets now had made their home and reshaped everything to their own taste.

He had ventured to his old room only the day before, curious to see what had become of it, only to find that one of the maids had made her room in it. Angry, and perhaps insulted that someone of such a rank was now living in what used to be his quarters, he had tried to enter to make a mess, but he had been pulled back as if on a leash. Tybalt had been behind him, tutting his lips and pressing a finger to Mercutio's lips. “Let's not play naughty, shall we?” He had said, and Mercutio had bowed his head and obeyed the man for the simple reason that he knew the chain around his neck would be reason enough for Tybalt to be able to overpower him. Whatever he'd try, Tybalt would pull him back. And what if his master got enraged? He knew how easily Tybalt would fall into one of his moods. There'd be shouting and perhaps worse. He wouldn't risk it.

Valentine's room now belonged to the Capulet named Rosaline, and Mercutio had bit his tongue hard when he'd seen her. She had waved at him with a shy smile, but he had deliberately turned his head and walked the other way. Rosa felt like a traitor to him. After all, he could understand her hatred for the Montagues, with how she had her trouble with Romeo in the past, but to him she'd always been tolerant. Would she still be tolerant now that he wore Tybalt's chains? Now that he wore Tybalt's mark? On the chain around his neck but also the many healing bruises and bites that Tybalt had given him in his bed?

He felt ashamed. That must be it. Ashamed and betrayed and not at all ready to face Rosaline who would remind him of who he was and who he used to be. It would be too much of a humiliation.

Naturally Lady Capulet had claimed the former quarters of the late Prince Escalus. He had wanted to sneak in there as well but Valentine had beaten him to it. The boy had been asked to deliver a tray of food to the room – which he had no problem finding, and afterwards had reported everything he'd seen to Mercutio.

Mercutio had just gritted his teeth. “They're taking it all and ruining it all.” He had said sharply. “Our home, nothing more than a Capulet's nest. It smells foul to be here, but alas! We have nowhere else to go.”

And then the garden. Why did it need a makeover, really? Mercutio never had held much interest in it and had been quite unsettled to find himself in a team who had to help take out the bushes and many exotic plants to make room for the flowers Lady Capulet wished to see instead.

The sounds of his master moving behind him brought him back to the present as a letter dropped unceremoniously on the desk in front of him.

“Well now, you'll be happy to hear the outcome of your tests.”

“Will I?” Mercutio stared at the letter for a moment, uncertain whether he even dared to open it. “Master?”

Warm hands were placed on either cheek and he was brought eye to eye with his master, who bend his knees to be on eye-level with him. “Yes. You will.” It sounded more like an order but Mercutio accepted it.

Although the outcome of the letter didn't leave much to be guessed when Tybalt drew him close and instead of placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips, like he had done for the past few days, or on the top of his head, he now kissed him straight on the lips.

There was no doubt that whatever was in the letter was something positive. Like Mercutio was positive that the result was negative. And it relieved him.

The kiss deepened, then broke, and when Tybalt rose to his full length he gently ran his gloved hand through Mercutio's hair before leaving him some space to open the letter in his own time.

Mercutio hesitated, then carefully lifted the letter from the desk and opened it to examine the results. They were, as Tybalt's actions had made him think, telling him that he was clean and that he was okay, and with a big cheesy grin he pressed the papers against his chest and let out a loud sigh. “Thank God.”

“It is a miracle.” Tybalt, standing behind him at the cabinet to pour himself a drink, agreed. 

The boy looked over his shoulder, still not quite able to comprehend what he had just read, and eyed the filled glass with almost a look of longing. Tybalt caught sight of it and poured him a glass too which he handed him deftly with his gloved hand. Mercutio didn't take it though. He just stared at the offered drink, blinked and then looked up to meet his master's eyes.

“The master handing the slave a drink. And a strong one too? Are you feeling all right, master?”

Tybalt smirked. His behaviour puzzled Mercutio. But the boy was growing more and more used to the sudden changes in his master's mood. One moment Tybalt could be stern, the next he would tolerate a joke. It was hard to pinpoint how he would react but Mercutio felt that somehow it was okay to be a little insolent right now. His master seemed to be in a good mood and whenever he was in one of those he seemed to be craving old times and would even challenge Mercutio to say impudent things to him.

Old times. His small smile faltered and he took the glass.

“On me. Hurray.” He took a big gulp from the alcoholic content and felt his face contort into a grimace. “Damn, this stuff's strong.” He heard his own voice break as he said it, skipping a notch like a teenager who still had to grow into his proper voice.

A raw laughter could be heard as Tybalt clearly enjoyed the sight in front of him and after the laughing had faded the man downed his glass in one go. He set it firm upon the desk and smirked at the younger man.

“I like you, Cutio.” The confession from Tybalt's lips made Mercutio look at him in wonder. But the Capulet leant closer to him and reached with his hand for the collar around his neck. His fingertip traced the lines that spelled his name. “And I like that my name is on there, marking you.” Tybalt blew gently through his parted lips. A strand of his black hair was affected as the air pushed it out of his face.

For a moment the two were silent, staring at each other, then Mercutio smiled carefully and Tybalt followed swift. The man came closer to him, aiming with his lips for the lips of the boy, when suddenly his body contorted.

And he fell to the floor.

Tybalt groaned and within moments his eyes had glazed over and his body was pulsing, his limbs were forcefully twisted in odd angles and foam rose from his lips.

Mercutio panicked.

He had seen it happen a few times before and he knew how bad it could be, but to see it happen when the two of them were alone – it was different. It was frightening.

He somehow didn't know what to do. Sure, he'd seen others come to the rescue but his mind turned blank now that his master was writhing in front of his feet in agony.

Thinking while it was almost impossible to think, Mercutio acted swiftly by pushing the chair aside so it would be beyond Tybalt's reach and he sprinted to the door to call for one of the maids to come to his aid. Luckily they responded and within moments he stood at the twisting side of his master with a maid kneeling in front of him, placing wood between his master's teeth. Tybalt seemed to calm down and his body went limp.

Behind him, he could hear Peter say something about getting news to the other servants and he heard by the footsteps fading that the man had left. Which left him with the maid and an unconcious Tybalt.

“I was so scared.” He confessed., the sweat trickling down his brow. “What could I do?”

The maid looked up at him with a faint smile. Her long blonde hair fell down one shoulder and her blue eyes pierced his. “To be scared is natural. But you are his boy now and as such you need to know how to take care of him in case he gets an attack again.”

Mercutio pursed his lips and frowned. “You called me his boy. Not his...slave?”

The maid blushed and quickly looked down at her hands. She was trying to make Tybalt comfortable on the floor with a blanket and pillows. “Well, I find it hard to get used to the new hierarchy, that's all. I mean, we're all human beings, aren't we?” She fluttered her lashes at him and Mercutio quickly looked down at Tybalt's form. He seemed to stir slightly. His long and lean body was now stretched out and the maid had removed the wood from beneath his teeth. She was wiping his brow with a napkin and did it with such gentle ease that Mercutio wondered how it must be like to be Tybalt at this very moment. The girl's hand seemed soft and her actions caring. Surely he could never take care of Tybalt in this way, could he?

The girl bit her lip coyly. “You can call me Maria. I've been a maid here in this house for – oh- about ten years now?”

Mercutio let out a choked sound. “Ten years? How old are you then?”

The girl laughed and it felt good to be able to talk to someone without risking to be reprimanded. God knew that Peter was very strict in giving punishments whenever Mercutio broke with the etiquettes or forgot to address him accordingly. Maria didn't seem to mind that he was asking her questions – not even impertinent ones.

“Gosh, I'm just sixteen. I got here quite early you know.”

Mercutio hummed as he crouched next to her to be on the same level. “You were just a child when you got here.”

Maria looked away. Beneath her touches Tybalt groaned. She lowered her voice and made it into a whisper. “He's got a headache now. No surprise. It's important that you help Master Tybalt whenever you can. If he feels ill make sure you stay with him. If he falls make sure he can't injure himself on any furniture. His body will start doing things on its own accord. There's a high risk he might hit his head, or bruise his skin, or bite his tongue.”

“That's why the wood-” Mercutio started but Maria instantly nodded. Her small smile was infectious and soon Mercutio found he was smiling too.

“I will have Peter bring you a wooden bit then you can carry it with you at all times, just in case.”

Beneath them, Tybalt had opened his eyes as narrowed slits and was listening with as much concentration as he could muster.

“Ah, make it two.” Mercutio said, raising his hand in thought. “I think Val needs to carry one around as well.”

A hand clasped onto his arm, the grip much firmer than he had expected but still weaker than it could have been. Tybalt was doing a brave attempt of pulling himself up but both Maria and Mercutio could tell that his attempt was failing. And so Mercutio quickly brought his free arm up under Tybalt's head and tried to help him up. Maria was helping by pushing Tybalt's back until he was in a sitting position.

“This is what happens above me. Not even behind my back. The maids start flirting. With you.” His voice was cracked but the anger was seeping through.

Behind him Maria sat silently. Her cheeks were red and she looked as if she was embarrassed. Mercutio knew that Tybalt's focus seemed to be on him now, and that he must be tired from the headache and the sudden attack and it would be better to shift his mental focus from “Someone's chatting up my slave” to “I need to get to bed and sleep myself better.”

So he did the first thing that came to mind which was to haul Tybalt up in his arms and try walk to the bed with him. “We're near your bed, master. It'd be a good idea for you to lay down in it and we shall be very quiet.”

Tybalt moaned but despite his verbal protests allowed Maria to help along. When he was finally on the bed he slapped the girl away. “Get out.” He snarled at her. “Pet, fetch me something to drink.”

Mercutio did as he was told and retreated to the bathroom to fill a glass. On his way there he passed Maria who gently brushed her hand past his and whispered. “I'll be around if you need me.” He nodded surly, then entered the bathroom and filled the glass. Upon his return in Tybalt's bedroom he found that Maria was gone and Tybalt had covered his eyes with his arm. It was such a silly sight: the tall man in his silver blouse with his boots still on lying on top of the blankets. Mercutio halted for a moment to just look at the man who held such power over him and his sibling. Then he sighed and walked over to sit on the side of the bed and hand the man his drink.

When Tybalt didn't move he gently nudged him. “Here's your drink, master. Master?'

Tybalt groaned and in agony reached for the glass. But his hand seemed to be made of jelly and his orientation had left him as much as his speech. His hand wobbled past the glass without any success of getting a grip on it and nonsensical soft mumbling escaped his lips.

“Now, do I need to feed my cat?” Mercutio said with a smirk. He placed the glass on the bedside table and brought both hands underneath the Capulet's head, shoving them down to his shoulders as he tried to sit behind him, at the bedpost. He had little room to do this manoeuvre but he tried to anyway and succeeded in bringing Tybalt up into a sitting position, then let the man -who seemed to be more unconscious than conscious – rest against his chest. With a careful hand he brushed the sweaty strands of hair out of Tybalt's face and then brought the glass of water close to his lips.

“Come on, Tybalt, you _need_ to drink.” It was distressing how the man didn't snarl at him or even comment at his insolence. Mercutio had left terms such as 'master' behind a few sentences ago.

Yet Tybalt wasn't completely off this world. He nipped at the drink, his lips seeming tired and slack and his actions somewhat sloppy. But in the end he managed to get some of the water down his throat and as he swallowed lamely Mercutio felt his worry glide away. Tybalt was drinking. He was going to be okay.

He rested his head on top of Tybalt's, allowing the feel of the dark silken strands to imitate a pillow. A small smile of relief curled his lips and beneath him the tired Capulet groaned and muttered. “That's enough, Cutio.” And Mercutio put the glass aside. He cradled the Capulet's head, gently stroking his fingers through the silky black hair and enjoyed the moment. The feeling of relief was pleasant and he closed his eyes.

Tybalt did the same and after not too long a time, he fell asleep.


	11. A Private Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! We're getting closer and closer to even slower updates. I am currently writing on chapter 20, but as announced before -> this story isn't my priority. The other story (currently counting 186 pages in fanfiction format .... My God what am I doing? I am going to bore you all to death) is finally getting it's final shape. I can see the ending and have a rough draft of the chapters I still need to write, including a draft for the final chapter. Whoohoo!
> 
> For this story, Prince of Slaves, I don't intend to write as many pages and I can too see the ending coming near. I know where I want them to go next and I know what will happen to them, so unless THEY change their minds I think it will take 30 chapters in total for this one. Keeping in mind I am in chapter 20 right now it is a relief to me when the two stories are finished and I can start on one of my new ideas. Whoohoot! But till then I'm afraid I will have to keep you waiting for the new uploads while I hope to type the next chapter and finish this story (which is always my greatest fear... a story without an ending, and I am good at abandoning stories before they are finished. Which is why I feel safer writing oneshots and short tales. I don't wish to let that happen here so bear with me). 
> 
> Also, I've moved and finally have internet running again. Last update was made from a pc at my work. I know... the risks I take. Anyway, here's the next chapter. I really start to love Valentine's character more and more as I write. Hope you enjoy!

“Wood, for his teeth?” Valentine looked at the little block of wood with a frown.

“Yeah.” Big brother Mercutio sat down on a stool in the corner of the kitchen. He loved to visit his sibling here whenever he was permitted the chance – which wasn't as often yet as he had hoped. He watched Valentine work on his chores to help the cook, chopping vegetables and boiling soup. There was some dead chicken on the counter that Valentine had tended to earlier that day.

“Maria gave it to me. She said it would help him not to bite off his tongue whenever he suffers from the falling sickness.”

Valentine glanced at him and watched how he ran a hand through his hair. The boy smirked. “Well, it is good to know there's something we can do.”

Mercutio chuckled and shook his head. “I was scared to death when he fell down all of a sudden. Imagine that this could happen at any given moment? That he could suddenly start spitting and thrashing while we have sex?”

The choking noises coming from his sibling made him sit up straight and he frowned at the smaller boy. “Val....”

“It's good, isn't it, that the maid is helping us out?” Valentine deliberately said, diverting the subject and making his brother frown.

“Well, I suppose it is.” The latter said as he sat down in the chair again, leaning backwards so that his back rested against the solid wood of the chair. He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“I think she likes you.”

Now those words by Valentine were dangerous and Mercutio knew it. He glared at the boy suspiciously but also with a silent warning for the boy not to continue on the subject.

“A girl will have nothing to seek with a rundown slave.” Mercutio said harshly. “And even if she would fancy herself so silly to lower herself to fancy a common bed-slave then she will find the consequences of her error to be very grave indeed.”

A small smile appeared on Valentine's face, a dimple in his cheek as he smiled. “Because the master would not allow it?”

Mercutio kicked his leg against the wooden leg of the kitchen-table and pushed his chair a few inches away. The sound that accompanied the action filled the room and Valentine shushed him, warning him that the cook would come and have a look what the noise was if he didn't keep quiet.

“I believe,” the boy then said, eyeing his brother down, “that maid Marie has already been placed out of the house after yesterday's incident. She was said not to have handled adequately and to have gambled with our master's life.”

Mercutio huffed. “Tybalt's just a jealous prick.”

And at these words Valentine's eyes lit up. “Aren't you happy that he is?”

Silence. A pause too long to be comfortable and too long to be acceptable. Valentine moved, putting the knife that he held down on the wooden chopping-board, and opened his mouth to speak again. But then, finally, Mercutio replied and silenced him with his words.

“I would have been happy in the past.” He said, meaning each and every word. The look in his eyes, shimmering in the candlelight, was one of sadness and of honesty and was enough to quiet Valentine down and cause him to back up against the kitchen table. How fragile Mercutio looked in that moment, how out of his depth and lost and alone. Despite Valentine's presence there, it felt as if Mercutio was out in an empty desert, at night, clutching his arms around him to protect himself from the cold. Even Valentine couldn't reach him here in this part of his mind. And the younger boy didn't try.

“But now. It's different now.” Mercutio let out a sigh. “Oh God, Val, if Tybalt would have been jealous like this in the past I would have applauded it but now,” he bit his lip, worrying the skin with his teeth, “the situation has changed and it is of no use now. I was wrong in my compassion for him. Tybalt is dangerous. He is raised by hate. He is malicious. He is a Capulet and he will live like one forever. His jealousy means nothing to me. Only the loss of possible friends.”

The rattle of pans falling, of iron against stone, jerked them out of their concentration. Both Valentine and Mercutio stared at each other with eyes wide.

“Someone's been listening.” Valentine squeaked, his voice high and panicking. “Someone's been standing in the servant's hall. It's where we keep our extra pans and spoons.”

He didn't even wait for his brother to stop him as he rushed to one of the smaller doors at the side of the room and threw it open without much mercy. The hallway behind it was dark and damp, and apart from a few dangling lines of cobweb and a heap of fallen pans and spoons on the floor the hallway was empty.

“He's gone.” Valentine knelt and started to pick up the fallen pieces. “Whoever he was, he's gone.”

The boy looked up and studied the walls. The wooden plank to hold the pans was still there and he frowned. Whoever had been listening had clumsily knocked some pans off the plank in their hasty retreat. He figured it wouldn't have been the cook. Whoever it had been had been someone of such a height long enough to disturb the cobwebs and to knock the items off the shelf.

Behind him Mercutio had come to stand and was watching over the shoulder of his brother. “Not a sign.” He said, sounding defeated.

“This is bad.” His younger brother turned to face him, pan still in his hands, and eyes fixed upon Mercutio's face. “We were discussing our master.”

“So?” Valentine just hoped that his brother was only acting indifferent.

“So,” the younger sibling said, “he or she or whoever was listening in on us could have gone to tell our master. We were gossiping.”

Mercutio laughed. “And have him whip us?” He shook his head and walked back into the room. “No, it was mostly me speaking so if he wishes to punish me for my filthy mouth I'm sure he'll find a way.”

Valentine looked at his brother worriedly and continued cleaning up while his brother sat down again and stared in front of him, clearly lost in thought.

The cook entered while Valentine was still busy with the fallen pans and scolded for Mercutio to get out of the kitchen and back to his chores. The boy jumped up and with a swift “yes ma'am' left the room, but not before winking at his sibling.

When Tybalt visited the kitchen later that day Valentine couldn't tell if their little chit-chat had reached his ears or not. He looked pale, as if he was still recovering from his sickness, and moved about with an awkward gait. He left after a spending a few minutes staring at the soup and giving the cook his instructions.

Perhaps things hadn't gone as wrong as Valentine had feared.


	12. Trauma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God, I am so sorry.

A soft humming filled the room when Mercutio made his way from end of the house to the other. Tybalt had been very mild to him considering everything that had happened. He obviously hadn't been informed of Mercutio's little tirade earlier in the kitchen.

Instead, it seemed as if Tybalt had been quite generous and had enjoyed trapping the boy by his side during his ailment. Mercutio had not been allowed to move from the bed all day yesterday and when Valentine had come for sleep he had hastily arranged for a plate of dinner because Mercutio hadn't even eaten yet.

The morning had been a bit better as Tybalt had ordered him to have breakfast and a shower, after which he had given him some simple tasks which had him cross most of the building.

He loved to use the hidden passages his uncle used to take him through. He knew one that lead to a hidden panel in his former cousin's room. He knew a secret passage that had him look through the eyes of a painting. But during his secret adventures in the hallways he had to be careful not to be caught and not to look suspicious. If anyone would think he'd want to escape he would dread the punishment.

And so far he didn't want to leave. Staying with Tybalt was a blessing and a curse at the same time. The man he'd always admired in secret didn't seem to be as much of a monster as he had took him for at first, but at the same time he was far from being an angel. Yet his life as a slave was looking good and quiet and his sibling was safe in the kitchen and under the watchful eyes of the cook.

He hummed as he collected some of the ancient diaries that lay in his uncle's library. His hand trailed past the dusty cover of his uncle's memoires and he let out a sigh. No use thinking of Prince Escalus. His uncle was dead.

He carefully placed the book underneath the desk, hoping that the other piles of books would hide it long enough to save it from being destroyed. He picked up an encyclopedia but then threw it aside – it was the wrong one- and continued his quest till he had the right book in his hand.

After slowly gathering a little pile of books he scooped them in his arms and was about to set foot outside of the room when he remembered he had forgotten the scientific copy Tybalt had explicitly asked for him to get – if it was there. And it was. He could see it on one of the lower shelves out of the corner of his eyes.

He bent through his knees, eager to get the item, when he heard the rustling of skirts.

He knew that sound.

Mercutio bit his lip and crouched quietly on the floor. Should he get that last book or not? He reached for it and managed to spill the books he had held in his arms. With a gasp – and he was very proud just to have gasped and not to have cursed- he watched as all the books fell to the floor.

There was a shadow looming over him. A woman stood behind him with her hands on her hips and she demanded his attention. He could do no more than to oblige her now and hesitantly spun round, still looking up at her from his position on the floor as she looked down at him with a wry smile.

With a gesture of her hand she signalled for him to get up which he did.

Lady Capulet smiled at him. “Come closer, pet. I've heard good things about you from my nephew. I do wonder if you're still as skilled with that tongue of yours as you were those months ago?”

So she hadn't forgotten. Mercutio silently cursed himself, mentally berating him for not avoiding her when he'd noticed her presence.

He bowed and smiled weakly. “I only do what I must to please my master, my lady.”

It was a derisive sneer and he knew it, indicating her that he was not to be used as a toy by any other than the nephew she had just mentioned. But she seemed to ignore it, the cunning witch, and with a haughty smile drew closer to him.

“Come on. I'm sure my nephew won't mind a little sharing _too_ much.”

Mercutio ducked away, call it instinct, and avoided her arm touching his shoulder. Now that she had failed in drawing him close he gave her a sheepish smile and bowed once more, apologetically. “I am sure your nephew will mind very much, my lady.”

“Still as charming as always.” Lady Capulet bit back at him. Her smile all teeth and little joy. It was clear her compliment was made into a threat.

“A proper slave will do as his master or mistress tell him to. And right now this,” she pointed at her own chest, “mistress wants you to give her pleasure.” She reached for his hand and this time Mercutio wasn't swift enough to avoid. Truth was he could have been faster but he knew it would not matter. She would get him if she wanted him. It would only be a matter of time. Who would come and save a slave from a fate like this? No one had before.

It wasn't new to him and so he feigned submittal and let her lead him. “Where to, my lady?”

“On the desk.” Lady Capulet said, determined as she trapped him between the desk, that once belonged to his uncle, and her body. Her breasts were pushed up high by her corset and she pushed them nearly into his face. He had to try his hardest not to have his face contort and show the dissatisfaction her action caused. She leant over him, urging him to bend backwards and have his back hit the wood of the desk. “Hard.” She growled at him.

“I want you to lick and kiss me down there, boy. And then to penetrate me hard and deep till I'm sure I've devoured all your baby-making juices.”

Mercutio froze. Lady Capulet was cruel but to force him to come inside of her? For what? Did she just imply she wanted to have his baby?

He felt ill, nearly swooned, his knees buckled and if she hadn't kept him trapped between her body and the desk he would have fallen to the floor. But she pushed him back, allowed her hands to wander down his chest to tug at the edge of his trousers. Her lips claimed his neck and then she ordered him to play along.

A reluctant kiss was placed on her cheek, and then one lower, placed in her neck. The door to the library creaked and he looked up to see how the door fell shut. Disappointment washed over him when he realised no one was there and it must have been the draft toying with the hinges.

A hand distracted him. Lady Capulet turned his head away from the door and forced his lips back to her skin. Once he did as she had silently ordered him to, she reached for his hand and brought it between their bodies. His fingers slipped underneath her skirt, guided forcefully by her hand, and soon his skin brushed past her wet slit and he shivered. That she could be as foul as not to wear underwear, he should have known.

She took his shiver as pleasure, or else pretended it was so, and smirked down at him. “Good boy. The role of a slave suits you well. I heard they put a lot of dicks inside your hole. But I'm sure they didn't damage that cock of yours much, now, did they?”

Fear. Absolute panic and fear overtook the boy. She stepped away from him and he slid down to his knees. The new position was agreeable enough for her. She instantly grabbed his head and raised her skirt, eager to press his lips to her lady-space, when the door swung open and revealed Tybalt with smouldering black eyes.

“Aunt. This is not what we agreed to.”

Lady Capulet had the decency to let go of the boy and to instantly cover herself up. “I just got myself a little excited over him.” She said nonchalantly as she patted her hair.

“Well, get excited over your personal men like Ben or Peter.”

Lady Capulet let out a hoarse laugh. “Ah, but their talents are already known to me and can't compare to the promised pleasure of this one.” She ran her fingers through Mercutio's hair who flinched and looked up at Tybalt with a silent plea for help written in his eyes.

Tybalt looked back at the boy, his jaw chiselled and his expression stern. His eyes slid back to his aunt. “Leave him. He has a task to do and you're delaying him.”

The hand was untangled from his hair and the boy instantly got up on his knees, gathered the fallen books in a hurry and rushed out of the door, past his master with a grateful look on his face and a quick bow as far as the books he carried would allow him. Tybalt didn't reply to any of his actions but just kept staring at his aunt.

“Don't let this happen again.” He could hear Tybalt say as he rushed down the hall.

Lady Capulet's reply was a laugh.

But Mercutio was all too happy he escaped this ordeal more or less unscathed. Things could have ended rather badly with an experience he had rather missed. With a deep sigh he hurried back to the safe haven of his master and vouched not to leave the room again for the remainder of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to challenge everyone who has been reading my story “Prince of Slaves” up till this point to tell me what inspired me to write this story. 
> 
> I am curious to see if anyone has found out what this story was based on, what thought I had. A clue: the hints are already there in chapter one and are scattered throughout the tale. What do you think it is?
> 
> Send me a private message, might be anonymous as well if you do so via my ask at tumblr or go to www.mercutio.nl/ask


	13. I don't care anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do care. It's just the title of the chapter. Also, smut ahead.

That night the two Escalus siblings were found on the floor, cuddling on the carpet. The youngest had found a book with stories, obscure fairy tales, in one of their master's drawers and was reading them to the older one who lay beside him, with an arm wrapped around the young boy’s waist and a big grin on his face.

“And so the Queen got down from her throne and approached the huntsman. She was beyond rage for he had not brought her the present she had wished for.”

“No,” Mercutio rolled his eyes. “It's different.”

“How so then?” Valentine's questioning eyes seemed to drill a hole into him and Mercutio frowned irritably.

“And so the Queen got down from her high throne to shag the huntsman so she would get a baby which was what she actually wanted so she had someone who would inherit the kingdom.”

“That’s not how the tale goes.” Valentine protested.

“It should be. All high and mighty ladies seem to take pleasure in that; ravaging young boys, stealing the innocence of the weak.”

Valentine looked at him worriedly but Mercutio smiled. “I never seemed to find pleasure in women.”

“Lady Capulet isn’t the example of womanhood.” Valentine retorted and Mercutio’s face turned sour.

“I know.” He shifted. “But still. She hasn’t been the only woman I’ve ever shagged. And then it was only by my lips. God, she tasted foul! But I had to do something to distract her from seeing Romeo and Juliet together, and that woman was greedy. Heck, insatiable. She wanted more and more.”

Valentine swallowed. “Like those men?”

His brother’s eyes darkened and he seemed to focus on some invisible spot in front of them.

“Perhaps they’re not so different after all then, men and women.” His younger brother tried.

“It’s not about what they do, Val.” Mercutio said, turning to face his brother once more. “It’s just that no woman could get me excited enough.”

“No woman but Tybalt.” Valentine said with a smirk.

Mercutio loudly objected. “Oh, oh! You dare call our master a woman?”

Valentine shrugged and chuckled. He sat up on his knees. “Can’t help it. Have you looked at his hair? It’s so long and soft. Have you seen the shampoo he uses? It’s a girl’s brand. It says so on the label. For women.” The boy’s grin grew bigger. “Not to mention the jewellery he wears. That dreadful silver locket.” Valentine clapped his hands. “Oh, and what about that doll? It’s a girls doll he has locked up in that cupboard. I wonder how he got it and why he decided to keep it.”

His big brother was laughing too, though not as loudly. He rubbed his eyes. “Oh, Val, you know nothing of our _master_ yet. If he wants to wear stockings to bed he may do so. If he wants to draw ponies we can’t stop him. That’s the power of our master and lord. We can’t change it.”

Valentine shrugged again. “I know it’s unfair to call him names, but sometimes he freaks me out.” The boy's voice grew softer. “He has this gentle side but he tries so hard not to show it. It’s like somewhere there’s a cute little boy inside,”

“Or girl.” Mercutio added with a giggle.

“Yes.” Valentine blinked. “It’s like there’s a child inside who never got to live his childhood. It’s like something inside of him was killed at an early age and it made him struggle with who he is and how he is perceived by others. It made him who he is now.”

The older brother turned round and lay down on his back with his hands hooked round his head. “Whoever he has become he is now our master and so far he is treating us quite well for the cold-hearted man he has always claimed to be. But he’s no woman, Val. I can guarantee you that and you’ve seen it too. He won’t lie down pliantly for me to take him from behind, if that’s a good symbolical description of the situation.”

Valentine looked abhorred and Mercutio quickly laughed as to cover up his crude joke.

“Stop joking about it, brother.” Valentine whispered.

The door opened with a slam and in came Tybalt, taking long strides. He looked pale and carried black circles underneath his eyes.

“I need water,” he rasped. “I need water and I need you to get into the shower room and just stay there, understand me?” He gave Valentine a push and the young one did as he was told.

Then, Tybalt turned to face Mercutio and started undoing his clothes. “I need your help.” He breathed, and soon Mercutio’s hands ran along his as he helped the Capulet to remove his upper-layer of clothing until the man was left in just his trousers and the loose black shirt.

It looked as if Tybalt could breathe again.

The man eyed Mercutio dangerously for a while, his glare interrupted by the glass of water handed to him. He took it, waited for Valentine to disappear behind the bathroom door and then turned his dark eyes on Mercutio again.

“I don't care anymore.” Tybalt finally stated, surprising the boy by his side who had no idea what he was on about.

“Seeing you with that dreadful woman who calls herself my aunt was too much too handle. Hate me all you wish but I don't care any longer. What they think is what they think and it should not matter to me.”

Mercutio's hand slid down Tybalt's chest, comforting him, but when the Capulet turned his eyes on Mercutio the hands stopped moving. The dark eyes of his master showed a longing, a deep burning, a flame of lust, that made the boy go weak at the knees and he was grateful he was already seated on the side of the bed.

“I care not. If it is you I want it is you I shall have. And no one else dare touch you, my pretty boy.”

The man pushed him down onto the bed and made little work of undressing. Mercutio’s trousers were pushed down roughly and within seconds his arse was bare to the air. He could feel Tybalt halt, his gloved hand hovering over his bum, then the fingertips gently stroking his pale flesh. He closed his eyes, thinking that since Tybalt was in such a hurry he’d take him without much preparation and it’d all be over with soon.

But the other man wasn’t as rash as Mercutio had expected. Instead he could hear Tybalt unzip his trousers and could hear how the man was stroking himself through his briefs. The breath hitching, the low hoarse moan that was stuck in his throat, they were all signs of Tybalt taking his time.

The Capulet spit his palm, then smeared it to cover Mercutio’s hole and Mercutio whimpered at the gesture. Tybalt had started to lubricate him slowly, pushing the spit inside first with one finger and then realising it would not ever be enough before using the lube he had placed on the bedside table. Fingering his hole, adding another and scissoring his hole with such gentleness and such calm that Mercutio wondered if this really was his master. But then Tybalt groaned and inserted a third finger, and accidentally hit him deep and brushed past his prostate, and Mercutio let out an involuntary moan. The fingers kept scissoring him, pumping slowly, stretching his muscles.

Then they were gone and his hole was left gaping, pulsing, the spit and lube wet at his entrance inviting Tybalt in. And the man guided his hard cock towards the welcoming hole, pushing the head in slowly so the bulb disappeared inside the boy’s flesh. Their breath hitched, both waiting for something, and then with one slow but fluid motion Tybalt pushed the rest of his cock deep inside of the boy. He let out a low moan as he entered him, hitting his prostate and making Mercutio cry out deliciously.

He placed his hand on Mercutio’s shoulder, tightening his grip as he started to move against the boy’s body. With each thrust he could hear Mercutio gasp for air or grit his teeth and he welcomed the sounds. The slapping noise of body against body filled the room and the heavy pungent odour of sex spread around them.

Tybalt was working himself into a frenzy by rutting harder and faster. His thrusts became stronger as did the hold on Mercutio’s shoulder and a nasty bruise in the shape of the Capulet’s palm burned into the boy’s flesh there. The other hand was on the juncture of his hip, guiding him in his thrusts.

Only growls could escape the swordsman and as his pounding grew bolder and more violent, his growls grew louder and more fearsome. Mercutio felt his breath hitch and forgot how to breathe. In his panic he started hitting the bed underneath him with his fists. Tybalt reacted to his actions by removing his hand from his hip and slapping the boy’s arse hard. This sent the boy over the edge and Mercutio came violently. His body trembled and seed was spilled over blankets beneath him.

The tempo increased, Tybalt now forgetting all boundaries, and with a few firm thrusts he too climaxed and had his seed coat the insides of Mercutio. The boy underneath him threatened to collapse but Tybalt wouldn’t let him. He caught him with both arms at the waist now and held him up on his knees in the same sitting position until all his seed had been pumped out of his body and into the boy. Only then he did let go, and he smirked when he saw Mercutio roll onto his side and look at him through half-lidded eyes.

“The mighty Mercutio enjoys being ravished by his enemy.” He chuckled.

“Shut up.” Mercutio replied, his expression betraying that he felt stabbed by Tybalt’s former comment. “Master. I am just a very good actor.”

Tybalt slapped the boy’s arse again and grinned down at him. “Sure you are.” He leant over him. “You look pretty with my sperm dripping out of your hole.”

Mercutio winced and bared his teeth at him. “Not as pretty as you look when you get angry.”

He might have expected a slap to the face for this comment, but all he received was a firm squeeze of Tybalt’s hand on his buttock, and a kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Don’t think I love you, Mercutio.” Tybalt whispered in his ear, and Mercutio had gone limp. The hand stroking his forehead and brushing the hairs out of his eyes told him the opposite of what his master’s mouth said.

He waited for Tybalt to get up from the bed and into the adjacent room to clean himself before he pushed himself up. His eyes sought the room. It suddenly felt too small, too surreal and as if it was suffocating to be here.

But when Tybalt returned he was pushed back on the bed and told to fall asleep with his cum still in his sore butt. He did as he was told and allowed his master to snuggle close to him. Tybalt’s nose was buried in his red hair, his arms wrapped around his waist, the Capulet’s knees pricking into his own.

He was grateful that Valentine had been asleep in the other room all this time.


	14. Love

“You're worried.” Valentine said, always the clever one and the first to pick up on these kind of things.

“His words yesterday have alarmed me.”

“What did he say?”

Mercutio pursed his lips. “That I should not think that he loves me. He even mentioned my name rather than saying pet or pretty or slave.”

Valentine froze. “You think he is in love with you?”

The two brothers sat opposite of each other in Tybalt's room with Mercutio on the bed and his sibling on the chair at the desk. Their master had left the bed early that morning to help Lord Capulet in an errand. He had left before the first rays of sun had appeared and before the cock's crow.

While Valentine was already dressed, hair freshly washed and covered in a towel, Mercutio was still in his night-attire – a blouse he'd worn the day before- and little else. He had been awake ever since Tybalt had left the bed and his lips bore the signs of the sorrow that had kept him awake ever since. The words his master had shared the night before were fresh on his mind and had managed to unsettle him, to shake him, like nothing had before. Could Tybalt be in love?

“He obviously said he wasn't.” Mercutio cried out.

“Which implies that he is.” Valentine said, frowning as he pressed a finger against his lips. “Just like I thought....”

“What?”

Valentine smiled at him. “Perhaps it isn't all that bad. It is clear that you always fancied him and now he has accidentally revealed that he likes you too. We can make use of that.”

The older brother buried his face in the blankets in front of him and curled his fists into them at the sides of his head. His voice came out muffled but loud enough for his sibling to hear. “I don't dare to.”

“What? Mercutio! Now isn't the time.” The younger sounded sure of himself and reached out a leg. He managed to touch the blankets with a foot, bouncing against it with his soles so the material started to move. “You just need to make him see that he should love you. I mean, who doesn't?”

These words made Mercutio sit up and stare at his sibling. “Dear Val,” Mercutio's face was pained, the expression unmistakable as he continued, “that too is a lie I used to tell you and myself. In reality, I think, no one actually loves me that much.”

There was a painful silence hanging in the air before his brother did what he had dreaded the boy would do. Valentine took a deep breath, licked his lips, fluttered his eyes close and confessed.

“I do.” Those words managed to touch Mercutio's heart and made him feel warm inside out before dread took him over again and made his veins fill with ice as Valentine spoke again, the boy's words now a mere whisper. “I love you.”

Mercutio was caught speechless. “Val...”

Valentine had sounded so sure of himself and there was no reason to doubt him. The two had been through so much together and they had survived, had stuck together, had made sacrifices for the other. Then why did the emotions he felt at Valentine's words alarm him?

“Brother,” Valentine said, more firmly now, “try not to vex him. The more he realizes that he's in love with you the better a chance we stand.”

“For a brighter future?” Mercutio asked hesitantly, as if he was unsure whether he understood what his little brother was trying to say.

“Of course. For a brighter future.”

Mercutio laughed. “Oh, Val, you always know what to say to cheer me up.” He couldn't say how much hope the younger one's words had given him. How could he tell that he needed a future in sight, a perspective miles away, something he could work for and hope to achieve when all seemed hopelessly lost? He wouldn't trouble his sibling with all that.

Valentine knew that his brother would do anything to try and please him, to keep him safe and happy. As both fell silent and stared at the floor in front of them a key sounded in the door, twisting and turning, before it was opened with an elegant swing to reveal Tybalt.

Mercutio bit his lip to refrain from saying 'back this early, master?' or ask if the errand had gone well. After all a slave wasn't supposed to speak unless being spoken to and he was tired. The worry had kept him awake for longer than he'd liked.

“You are awake.” Was all Tybalt said as he passed them theatrically before taking off his coat and throwing it on the empty side of the bed. He studied the boys as he started to take off his left glove. “Shouldn't you be refreshing yourselves? Work awaits for the both of you.”

Mercutio watched as Valentine jumped from the chair and hastily turned to place the chair back in its original position next to the desk. He started to fumble with the towel round his head, quickly removing it to watch the tangled mess of long reddish tresses fall down his back, wetting his clothes. He bowed meekly for their master.

Mercutio cleared his throat. “Valentine already took his bath, master.”

“I see.” Tybalt turned to face the younger boy. “Go back to your chores.”

The boy nodded and made his way to the door when Tybalt stopped him on the way out to trace a finger past the boy's cheek. Valentine let him, his eyes were cast on the floor, as Tybalt studied the boy's expression. Then he let go and allowed for Valentine to leave. Behind them, Mercutio let out a breath, obviously relieved.

“Mercutio. I've got a thing you can do for me.” The boy looked up at his master, eyes showing the question he did not ask. He remained unusually quiet and this seemed to unsettle Tybalt, but the elder one didn't seem to wish to comment on it. Instead he proceeded to take off his second glove and placed it deftly on his night stand.

When Mercutio gave no reply Tybalt glanced at him sideways and grunted. “But you shall have to take a bath first.”

When Mercutio merely nodded and obediently moved from the bed and into the adjacent bath chamber, Tybalt watched him go and pensively placed a finger against his lips.

When the boy returned all clean and dressed he found his master seated at the desk, in the same chair his brother had just been sitting on, with his legs stretched in front of him as he studied a piece of paper. He was frowning, clearly deep in thought, and Mercutio didn't want to disturb him. Instead, the boy went to stand a few paces away from him, not in his eyesight but still nearby enough to jump to the attention when he had to. He waited patiently – far too patient for his character- until his master had need of him.

It took long, way longer than he had hoped, and he was sweating slightly because standing still like this took a lot of effort from the young boy. Tybalt didn't seem to notice him but he wouldn't make a sound to convince the man of his presence.

“There's a slave up for sale.” Tybalt suddenly said, startling the boy who merely gazed at him and waited in silence. Eventually Tybalt drew a deep breath and stood up at his desk. “Well, aren't you eager to hear who it is?” He turned to face Mercutio but the boy didn't seem to move a muscle.

With a sigh Tybalt ran a hand through his hair and took a step closer to the boy. “Really, no interest? Speak to me, pet, ask me who it is.”

His request was an obvious demand and Mercutio was swift to part his lips. “Who is it, master?” The way he looked at him, through his eyelashes, was sending pulses down to Tybalt's cock. The boy was too damn pretty to be real.

The Capulet turned away, harshly, and growled under his breath. “You will come with me when I'm visiting Juliet. I will be discussing the new slave and you will hear for yourself.” He propped the papers inside his breast pocket and then went over to his closet to pick out a new set of leather gloves, putting them back on as if he was going to another fight.

“My task for you,” He continued as he turned back to the boy, “Pet, is to give this to Romeo.” He handed Mercutio a white pill and the boy studied it in silence. Tybalt had half expected him to ask him about what it would do and why he had been given this task, but Mercutio kept remarkably quiet – irritatingly so. With a huff Tybalt passed him by.

“Oh, and after we've returned to my chambers you shall wash my gloves. There's blood on them and I don't like for it to get smeared all over the furniture, understood pretty?”

Mercutio's reply was a dull 'yes, master', annoying not only his master as he said it but also himself. _'I can't do it, Val,'_ he thought despondently as he followed Tybalt out of the door, his hand curled round the white pill. _'I can't pretend that I still love him now that I know'._


	15. Realization

 

The door opened to reveal Juliet all donned up in a beautiful red gown, her hair pinned up and her lips coloured. She wore a smile most beautifully. In short: their visit was expected.

Mercutio walked three steps behind his master and waited for Tybalt to greet his cousin and get the pleasantries over. He held the pill in the breast-pocket of his blouse and glanced carefully at the room to find his friend there. But there was no evidence of Romeo's presence.

“My dear cousin, I am so glad to see you have come. The matter was most pressing.” Juliet's voice was still as innocent and lilting as it had always been, a fact which somehow bothered Mercutio slightly. How could she talk in such a light voice when the days were dark and her lover was bound to slavery?  


When the door opened Mercutio looked up, expecting to see Romeo come in with a tray of something or the other, but instead he saw it was a man who appeared not to be wearing any chains or collars.

“Ah, Gustave my darling. I am glad to see you.” Juliet gave the man a kiss on his lips and Mercutio scrunched his face and looked away. “Tybalt here brings news of interest.”

“Is that so?” Gustave sounded friendly and reached for Tybalt's hand. It was only now that Mercutio noticed the hard look on his master's face and realized that he too wasn't very happy to be standing here. When Tybalt didn't seem to be willing to shake the man's hand, Gustave forced his hand in that of the other, forcefully shaking it as he patted Tybalt's shoulder with his other hand. “I am glad too, brother. So, please enlighten me.”

Tybalt seemed to be relieved when the man had let go of his hand and took his distance again. For once Mercutio was glad that he was stood in the corner and was completely ignored. Though it pained him that Juliet didn't spare him a glance he was still shaken by the realization that his best friend's lover had so easily forgotten the feud and had continued life with another man in such a charming manner. Charming, yes, because Juliet still radiated innocence and joy – the qualities which had charmed Romeo and had sparked the man's love for her. If only he could see her now.

Mercutio grinned. Romeo probably still loved her. Wherever he was. He looked around again but still no sign.

“By the by,” it seemed that Tybalt was talking while he hadn't been paying attention. He quickly straightened his spine and tried to listen in on the conversation. “Not all personal certificates have been retrieved yet. We seem to have had some trouble, but the problem has been removed from our town by Giovanni and his men. Though I doubt he’ll get a proper coin for it.”

“Another slave to sell, then. Dare I ask who it was?” Juliet asked.

“Friar Laurence.” Mercutio's jaw dropped. Had he heard Tybalt correctly? “That man could not be trusted.”

It was Gustave who asked the next question, his hands curled around those of Juliet who stood to his side. They were so close, so awfully close, that Mercutio wondered how Romeo could be their pet. Surely they had no need for a third wheel in this relationship. “Why?” Gustave's question brought him out of his thoughts.

“It seems he played dirty all along. False birth certificates, false marriages and secrets kept inside the walls of his home too long.” Tybalt merely sniffed and raised his head a little higher, his authority clearly displayed.

“No wonder he was willing to marry me to Romeo.” Juliet said with a whisper.

Tybalt muttered. “He’d have done anything for money.”

“Don't worry, love.” Gustave bent his head to give Juliet a small kiss on her knuckles and Mercutio wondered how much longer he had to suffer this sickening torture. “That marriage doesn't count any longer. You are my bride now.”

Tybalt loudly cleared his throat. “Yes, well,” And Mercutio suppressed a chuckle because he could just feel with every vibe in his being that Tybalt was just as annoyed by the situation as he was. That meant this display wouldn't be something he had to suffer for much longer. “I just need to discuss with you whether or not Lord Badacci is willing to take him along or if he could be returned to Lord and Lady Capulet for execution. Like I said before, the house of Capulet is agreed he will make you no money.”

“Did mama ask for him then?” Juliet gasped.

Her cousin nodded, his black hair obscuring his eyes for a moment before she brushed the strands away. Tybalt swatted at her hand, as if the kind gesture troubled him while he had always welcomed such gestures before. “She did. Once she heard that he was taken out of town to be sold into slavery she demanded his demise. By her hands, if I may quote her correctly.”

“Oh, mama shouldn't do that!” Juliet placed a hand on her heart. “Papa should kill him. Or Gustave. That way it would be much more fun.”

So much for being an angel, Mercutio thought with a frown. At this point there was a careful knock on the door before Gustave shouted 'Enter' and the door was slowly opened. The figure that was revealed was hunched, the right arm covered in bandages that looked clean and Mercutio felt the breath hitch in his throat.

This was Romeo?

The boy entered the room slowly and carefully, his walk a limp. He reminded Mercutio of an old man who needed a cane to get on in life, but he knew this wasn't so. After all, Romeo was younger than him and couldn't be much more past twenty.

Seeing his friend like this hurt, and Mercutio had to bite the inside of his lips in order not to cry out in rage and despair. Romeo was Romeo. His face was recognizable enough, his chestnut hair still long enough to graze his cheeks and frame his face like a halo. But the trauma he'd suffered was visible in his hunched hobbling walk, his bandaged arm and chest, the long scar on his cheek starting from the corner of his mouth, the dead eye that stared at him and the recognition in the still functioning one. Romeo smiled at him, the smile pained and stilted, but he had recognized him, and he bowed for his master and mistress before carefully limping over to Mercutio who now, as he approached, could see that his friend limped due to damage to his left foot and was missing his right hand.

“Friend.” Romeo's cracked whisper sounded.

And Mercutio couldn't reply. Tears were threatening his eyes, his voice seemed to have left him when he needed it the most, and when he realised that nothing came from his lips he wrapped his arms around Romeo and said it all with a hug.

The slight tremors in Romeo's body told him the boy was on the verge of crying, just like he was, but both were strong enough and bit back their tears. And when they parted to look each other in the eye they noticed they were both forcing themselves to smile for the sake of the other.

Their meeting had been noticed and as they glanced at their masters they could see Juliet's displeased scowl, Gustave's twisted snarl and Tybalt's displeased expression. “What are you doing, Romeo?” Juliet asked, her voice seemed to suddenly have lost its warmth and youthfulness and sounded cold and accusing.

Tybalt turned to her and Mercutio knew they were given a moment respite. He quickly grabbed Romeo by the shoulder and used his free hand to reveal the pill Tybalt had given to him. He then pressed it wordlessly in Romeo's hand and gave a firm nod, willing his friend to understand what he was doing.

Romeo looked at it with his good eye, seemed to realise something and then smiled at him again before using his left hand to clap Mercutio on the shoulder in understanding.

“Let them be for a moment. It's not as if they're going to fuck. My pet only obeys me.” They could hear Tybalt say in the background.

“Yes, I can see that. He looks rather well-fed. You seem to be taking good care of him.” Juliet clicked her tongue.

“He's never been as chopped up by the guards like yours has.” Tybalt replied.

“Ah, it is true! Mine had to miss a few parts. The guards loved pulling him apart.” Mercutio bit his cheek when he heard Juliet speak about his injured friend so airily.

“Didn't they fuck yours nearly to death?” Mercutio froze at hearing Gustave. His memory taking him back to the guards, the dungeon and the abuse. Romeo shook him out of his thoughts, pity in his eyes.

He mouthed something at Mercutio and the boy smiled. “Yes.” He replied. “No one knows.” His voice was a whisper and went unnoticed by the others in the room. Romeo smiled in relief.

“It's time to go.” Before Mercutio understood what was happening his hand had been grabbed by Tybalt and he was dragged out of the room. The room, he noted, had once belonged to his mother, and now it was the prison of his best friend.

Being dragged into the hallway he hadn't had time to say Romeo goodbye, and he let himself be led back to Tybalt's chambers. The man waited till they had arrived there before he asked Mercutio if he had managed to give Romeo the pill to which Mercutio nodded.

“Good. It is important that he takes it.” Tybalt continued. “It is against the pain. God knows he needs it.”

Whether Tybalt noticed that Mercutio had started to see a little green and pale isn't clear. He did, however, indicate for his slave to sit down before he poured himself a glass of brandy.

Mercutio was silent. The horrors of the day were taking its toll. The resurfaced memories of his imprisonment and the physical evidence of his best friend's torture were too much for him to bear. Juliet's betrayal, a thing he hadn't thought her capable of, now as proof in front of his very eyes had shaken his world and turned it upside down. If he couldn't trust in a simple thing like true love, like the thing Romeo and Juliet had claimed to be between them, then what could he trust in? Could he trust Tybalt to protect him?

He looked at the man. The Capulet stood with his back towards him, hoisting his drink, unaware of the thoughts inside Mercutio's mind. Tybalt only wanted to protect him out of greed and selfishness. He was aware of that. If it might be love then Mercutio denied it. Tybalt had wanted him for his own and he had said as much. He also had claimed that he didn't love him and despite Valentine's doubt Mercutio felt he couldn't belief in a miracle such as the man actually returning his love.

And could he still give it anyway? Could he give Tybalt his love like he had wanted before his imprisonment? Mercutio knew by now that he had fancied Tybalt. It had been more than a fleeting fancy, it had been a rather strong emotion, a crush that had lasted for many years and still had grown stronger. But right now? Now he was too confused, too upset, feeling too betrayed and too abused to believe that this man in front of him could return feelings such as compassion and love.

Nights ago, when he had just been turned into Tybalt's bed-slave, he had whispered to the man that he wasn't a monster and he had believed it. But seeing the coldness in Juliet's eyes and the hand missing from Romeo's arm he suddenly couldn't believe that a Capulet could be capable of love.

And his eyes grew hard. No. It was enough.

“Why are you so silent all day, pretty?” Tybalt had turned back to him and sat down by his side, the glass of brandy swaying in his hand. He reached for Mercutio's cheek, gently tracing a finger down his pale skin. “Now that your task is done there might be another thing you can do for me.”

Mercutio didn't speak as Tybalt guided him. His puns were gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been alluded to in all chapters so far.... something that makes Mercutio do what he does, and there hasn’t been a single reader who called me out on it yet. Even Peter knows it since chapter four and Romeo knew it all along.   
> I know most of you will probably hate me for it, but if you think you solved what the big secret is in this story, let me know privately or in a comment on AO3. I just can’t believe no one has seen it yet. Someone must, right? Be interactive with me :3 What is it?


	16. Broken

Quiet. It has been too quiet. Whenever Valentine wasn't around Mercutio would listen to the sounds of the house. As a child he'd hardly ever listened to them, always being too busy with making noises himself, but now that he had stopped talking to himself and making silly jokes as he went about his daily chores he finally had the time to listen to his surroundings.

It wasn't as it had used to be. The sounds didn't feel like home anymore. Instead they were rather alien and foreign. Each creak making his muscles tense, each squeak made him alert – as if he continuously expected the worst.

His relief was great when Valentine finally returned to the room and flashed him a smile. “You're looking dreadful, brother.” Was the first thing he said, wiping Mercutio's smile off his face.

“Like I said, you know how to say things to cheer me up.” Mercutio sarcastically remarked.

Valentine smiled at this and put his hands on his hips, his long hair was stuck in a bun and Mercutio looked at it. “Oh, I apologize humbly, your majesty.” The child mocked him and he knew it. But at least Valentine's words brought back a grin to his face.

“Val, shouldn't you think of getting a haircut?”

The question seemed to come out of the blue for Valentine who looked at his brother dumbly. And then the confused stare became a deadly glare. “How could you even suggest it! My hair is my pride! It's part of me, reminding me of who I was and who I should have been.”

“Val, calm down.” Mercutio's hands were upon the young boy's arms, trying to get him to relax. Hands curled into fists, teeth bared, the younger brother looked up and locked eyes with the older one and Mercutio knew instantly that this was a fight, an argument, that he had lost.

He held his younger brother in his arms, embracing him and gently stroking a hand comfortingly from his head down his back. “I know, I know.” He whispered. He should know better than to comment on Valentine's looks.

As if to make a statement, Valentine raised his hands and undid the bun, allowing for his long hair to fall freely down his shoulder as he looked up at his brother with a wicked grin.

“I just don't want you to look too tempting.” Mercutio whispered as he brought his head closer to that of his sibling, their foreheads touching. He closed his eyes.

“And I don't want you to be so concerned about me all the time.” The other replied in a whisper, but still sounding harsher than intended.

Mercutio just chuckled and shook his head. Then their touch was gone and both stood on their own. Valentine walked past him and over to Tybalt's desk where he placed his hands on the surface, leaning on his fingertips, and studied the closet to his left. Doors of wood and glass revealed the content and after a deep breath Valentine opened it.

“There’s a doll here. A doll of a girl.” It wasn't a new finding. They had noticed the doll during their first day of their stay. The room, which had once functioned as a spare room only occupied when Paris visited, had been stripped of most of the Escalus furniture. Only an old chair in the corner of the room had stayed – the reason why was unknown- and the wallpaper and carpet were still the same. All other items had been taken from the Capulet's previous home, or rather lair, and seemed to have belonged to Tybalt for a very long time. The closet wasn't an exception and neither was the doll displayed in it.

“Does this belong to Tybalt?” Valentine mused as he studied the doll. The figure was too refined, too detailed, too gently-clad to belong to their master.

Mercutio frowned. “Perhaps he has feminine tendencies after all!” He tried to take the tension out of the air but Valentine shrugged his comment off and he let out a sigh before running a hand through his hair. “Val...”

“It looks more like the kind of thing suited for a girl.” Valentine hesitated, his eyes shimmering. “Juliet.”

The mere mention of her name brought Mercutio back to his experiences yesterday and he became more withdrawn. Valentine at first didn't seem to notice it and kept studying the doll while Mercutio sat down on the chair behind the desk again. He had been doing nothing when his sibling had entered and continued to do the same now – staring off into space wasn't exactly a hobby but who cares?

Finally Valentine seemed to notice that his brother's behaviour was off and with a final glance at the doll he put it down before walking over to Mercutio and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Merc, are you okay?”

Mercutio chuckled hoarsely and placed his hand on top of Valentine's. “You haven't called me that in a long while now.”

Valentine looked slightly ashamed and tried to hide his face. “Sorry bro.”

A moment of silence passed in which the two held onto each other's hand. Then Mercutio stirred and looked at Valentine from over his shoulder. “Are your chores done for the day?”

The younger one laughed, light and pleasantly. His hand slipped out of Mercutio's grasp and dangled back by the side of his body. “Nearly. Cook needs my help for desert but since everything else had already been finished she gave me a break.”

“How attentive.” Mercutio forced a smile at his brother but Valentine seemed to accept this. He seemed to understand that somehow something had happened that had made it difficult for his brother to smile, even when he normally would have and even if he meant to.

“Oh darn, is it already that late?” Valentine had spotted the clock on the desk and cursed. He brought his hands in his hair and combed the long tresses with his fingers. His eyes searched the desk. “I need to go back there to help her.”

“What's it you're looking for?” Mercutio swiped his hand over the desk, wondering if his brother was looking for something small.

“My hairpin.” Valentine grumbled under his breath. “Never mind. I will twist it into an unattractive knot. See you later, brother.”

Mercutio's cheeks turned red when his brother threw him a kiss hand upon his depart. “Tease.” He muttered under his breath. His eyes lingered on the door, even after Valentine had closed it and had left, before he sighed deeply and clapped his hands on his legs in order to get up off the chair.

He had chores to do. Not much, but he had something to occupy his mind with before Tybalt would return – and he would return soon.

As he turned his attention to the papers Tybalt had asked him to file, he was unaware of the conversation that took place in the hallway, just several feet away from him.

Tybalt was pacing with long graceful steps and in his hurry he hardly noticed the tiny figure that nearly bumped into him. With eyes wide, Valentine – the little slave- looked up at him. For a moment he wondered if the boy's lip would tremble because of how frightened the boy looked. But Valentine quickly recomposed himself and bowed his head, lowered his eyes to the floor and that's when Tybalt noticed the ridiculous length of the boy's still loose hair.

He grimaced and stood up straight, blocking the boy's path and looking down upon him. “Good, I catch the little rat alone. Mustn't you be in the kitchen, boy?”

Valentine nodded and whispered his usual “yes, master.”

Sometimes Tybalt wondered why the boy wouldn't speak up, why everything had to be hushed. It annoyed him. Sure, Mercutio had told him the boy was shy but _this_ shy? Shouldn't traumatic experiences make one more fierce when survived? Then again, Tybalt couldn't judge. Whatever the boys had gone through had been horrible and wrong, and faintly he was aware that he wasn't giving them any brighter a future than Badacci's men had.

Valentine made an attempt to move but Tybalt halted the boy by raising his hand. His fingertips hovered above Valentine's chest. If the boy hadn't been as swift at noticing his gesture then he would have collided with the hand and he would have been stopped that way.

“Now that you're here, without your brother, I wish to voice my,” _concern_ , but his eyes darkened and instead he said, “dissatisfaction. Your brother is lacking in his responses. He is more timid than he was. Quiet. Unlike him. Why is that?”

When Valentine remained silent and the boy's eyes remained trained to the floor Tybalt growled under his breath. “Answer me, rat. Why is that?”

“You’ve bought a broken doll.” Valentine said, a whisper.

Tybalt raised a brow. “The doll’s been broken by many a hand.”

“But the one who broke it most was yours.” Valentine dared to look up at him now, his voice a little firmer. Niceties aside, titles forgotten, the boy disrespectfully spoke to him and spoke his mind. “Surely you must have noticed how high he held you in his admiration?”

Those words could have shocked him, it should have, but Tybalt's face remained stoic. And Valentine could see it, read it despite any change in the other man's expression, that Tybalt was aware of this, that he had noticed Mercutio's admiration in the past.

“What?” Tybalt snarled instead. “By pestering me and calling me names? By ridiculing me in public? No, there was no need for me to believe that this man, this boy, liked me. I could only assume he loathes me. Like he still does.”

“And that’s why he makes you smile.” Valentine's words hit a sensitive snare and Tybalt couldn't keep the coldness in his expression.

“He thinks me a fool.” He sounded hesitant, as if he was afraid to say the words.

“You call him yours.” Valentine retorted, hands on his hips.

Tybalt smirked. “Mercutio is my fool, and nobody else’s. I won’t have him play clown for anyone anymore but for me.”

These words upset the young boy whose hands slipped from his waist to curl into fists. “He teases you because he loves you.”

“No.” Tybalt stood face to face with the boy and noticed that their distance had closed. They almost touched noses as both spoke through gritted teeth in their heated argument. Why was he letting it go this far? Both were wondering it at the same time but for Valentine to have used the word 'love' had been risky and perhaps even foolish. “No, don’t use that word. _Love_. There can only be hate in this city and he mustn’t love me. He mustn’t.” Tybalt's eyes shimmered in the darkness of the hallway. “It would break us.”

Valentine parted his lips, didn't notice how Tybalt's eyes darted to his lips and followed the movement, when he turned to whispering once more.“But he is already broken.”

“Then perhaps there’s a way to fix him.” Tybalt murmured, his eyes darkening.

“By love?” Valentine asked.

He looked at the boy and squinted his eyes. “By obedience.”


	17. Mercutio

His frustration grew. Each passing day Mercutio was more silent, more obedient and less like himself. He was becoming a stranger and Tybalt hated it. Had he always claimed he wanted Mercutio to be the good boy who didn't speak unless spoken to and who did whatever was asked of him he would now take it all back.

With a huff, Tybalt ran a hand through his hair as he watched the problem that was his slave Mercutio. The boy was making their bed. Meekly, the way he was told to.

With a grunt Tybalt turned away from him and headed down the hallway. On his way to Juliet he passed the room of Rosaline who just opened the door and cast him a smile.

Mercutio could hear their conversation and squeezed his eyes shut.

That had been Valentine's room.

After a deep sigh he continued with his chores. Ever since the maid, Maria, had been fired he was asked to do all these chores. Usually it was okay. He'd never made his own bed before, he'd never ironed, he'd never cleaned the bathtub, but he preferred doing these tasks as they kept his mind occupied and he found them less dull than sorting Tybalt's paperwork. Some days his chores went better than others – after a good hard fuck his bottom would be sore and bending over would make him flinch.

But he wasn't a fool. He'd seen his master's displeasure and Valentine's words still rung in his ears.

“I should please him.” He muttered to himself. “But how?”

There appeared to be an argument down the hall for Rosaline's voice rose and so did Tybalt's and Mercutio sighed. He sat down on the bed and studied the covers he held in his hands. Was life going to be like this forever onwards?

His master returned the moment he had finished making the bed. Without saying a word Mercutio went over to the window to open it but Tybalt blocked his way and stopped his hand with his own.

“Now, now, why are you so quiet, pet?” His dark eyes sought Mercutio's bright ones. “What's wrong?” He brought a hand up close to the boy's face, then carefully placed his palm against the boy's cheek. Mercutio could feel the rough skin of his thumb brush gently against his lips.

“Won't you speak?”

Mercutio's silence had lasted days. Endless and countless of days where all Tybalt would hear was 'yes master' and 'please master'. Endless days and too many to count – though there were actually just five of them- where Mercutio would be a proper boy doing anything and everything expected of him by his master without protest no matter how humiliating or denigrating.

Tybalt had enough of it.

“At least pretend for me, pet.” Tybalt whispered in his ear, his hand still stroking past the soft flesh of the boy. “Pretend to be yourself again, pet.”

The sweet soft whispers turned harsher. “Be Mercutio. That's an order!”

Mercutio's eyes widened at the mention of his name. It had been too long ago since Tybalt had used it. He'd even sworn not to use it again and to rob him of his identity. And now that he had succeeded he suddenly wanted him back, ordered him even too and it confused the boy.

“Yes, Mercutio,” sounded Tybalt's hoarse voice rasping in his ear, “I want you to be naughty. To speak against me. I want you to fight me. I want you to pretend you secretly love me and enjoy struggling with me.”

Mercutio halted, pulled away from the other man's hand. His eyes showing hurt, betrayal, and the look in it made Tybalt laugh and shake his head.

“No use pretending. We both know that's what it was, Mercutio. We were attracted to each other. We loved our fights because it meant we were being close. But now,” Tybalt sighed and took off his glove with a hiss, “now it's hate I see in those eyes. It's despise I see. You loathe me. I am the enemy who has won and claimed his prize.” He placed his gloves on the bedside table and then turned back to Mercutio. “You.”

Mercutio stood speechless and watched Tybalt approach him.

“But guess what, pretty?” Tybalt circled around him, came to stand behind him and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. “I still want you. I'm still attracted to you. It still turns me on to struggle with you and to win our fights and pin you to the bed.”

Mercutio's breath hitched in his throat and Tybalt heard it. He let out a guttural laugh, as if he just realised something which had been so obvious all along. “Oh yes, you still arouse me.”

The Capulet trailed a finger down the boy's cheek and then down his chest, past the hardened nipple he found and tweaked there.

“If you don’t speak against me any more I will have to find other motives to punish you for.”

“You like hurting me?” Mercutio asked, feigning disbelief. He was already convinced by the character of his opponent.

“No.” Tybalt truthfully replied. “I like that fire in you. That fire which is called your spirit. But it has gone out and without it you’re nothing but a slave.”

“Just as would please my master.” Mercutio muttered and was rewarded by a hand round his throat, pushing him up against the wall.

“You know what would please your master?” Mercutio choked but Tybalt took it as a reply.

“If you’d made use of that filthy wide mouth of yours instead of rambling nonsense and spilling insults. You know what?” He drew him closer and forced him to look into his dark eyes. “You’d please your master by having his cock pushed inside that pretty throat until the nonsense you spill has been reduced to chokes!”

He let go of him and Mercutio coughed, his hands reaching up to his sore throat but Tybalt spared him no mercy. “On your knees!” He barked.

Mercutio’s gasps for air quieted and for a moment he stood there, in front of Tybalt, and just stared at him. Then with a mock reverence, he let himself theatrically fall to his knees and looked up at Tybalt in expectation.

Tybalt knew exactly what Mercutio was doing. He knew how the boy was playing; teasing and taunting him. Just as he had requested for him to do. Suddenly he felt a pang of remorse. Somehow the whole act of Mercutio on his knees seemed forced, less pleasing now that he knew the boy was broken and not doing this out of his own accord but because he'd been _ordered_ to do so.

A hand curled into the red-coloured locks while another was unbuttoning his fly. Soon, Tybalt’s member popped out of its confines and the hand in Mercutio’s hair pushed him close to the large organ.

Mercutio gave Tybalt a look that said “I’m not going to eat that.” But Tybalt’s malicious grin reminded him of who was in charge.

“Gobble it down, pet.” And Tybalt forced Mercutio’s head down on his shaft, lips encircling the hard cock. The boy had to close his eyes as choked noises and moans started to fill the room.

“Just like that,” Tybalt breathed. “Just like that, Mercutio.”

The boy seemed to be having trouble to keep him all down. He was struggling to keep Tybalt's cock inside his mouth as the organ swelled. The man was certainly well-endowed and he was giving Mercutio quite the challenge. But the boy also knew that if he would do this right then it would be over with quickly and-

Tybalt groaned. His breathing quickened. The hands in Mercutio's hair curled and tugged at the strands and before he knew it he exploded. The semen were pumped forcefully down the boy's throat and Mercutio could do nothing more but swallow. Despite his efforts, some of the cum that leaked out of Tybalt's dick managed to spill from his lips. Little trails of white semen slid down Mercutio's chin and once Tybalt moved and his dick popped out of the boy's mouth he studied him and cracked a smile.

“My cum does look good on you.” He said with a vicious grin.

A knock on the door.

“Come in.” Tybalt didn't do any effort to hide his flaccid penis, making it easy for his manservant to see what had happened. Mercutio was still on his knees and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The traces of white sperm were stuck to his lips as he glared at Peter dangerously.

“Put it over there.” Tybalt signalled with his hand and Peter followed the sign quickly and obediently. He placed a stack of papers on Tybalt's desk and bowed slightly.

“Would there be anything else, Master Tybalt?”

Mercutio winced at the obvious politeness and sanctimonious behaviour of the servant.

“No, that would be all.” Tybalt's eyes were focussed on the boy and when Mercutio noticed the firm gaze upon him he looked back. There was such a hunger in his master's eyes.

“All right.” Peter made a turn to leave but then seemed to think of something and halted in his steps. “Master Tybalt, may I say you are clever to keep the youngest hidden in the kitchen. Such a pretty face.”

Mercutio's expression became rigid. They were talking about his sibling again.

“I have my reasons.” Tybalt's eyes still hadn't left him. The man was hungry for his body, hungry for his lust.

“You're doing it to protect the boy, master?”

Tybalt huffed and finally looked up at the man. “My reasons are my own, Peter.”

With his head hung the servant left the room. Almost the moment he closed the door Tybalt had noticed Mercutio again and beckoned him. “Now, come here pet.”

He led the boy over to the freshly-made bed.

“Let's see how well you can pretend to enjoy your master.”

Mercutio allowed for Tybalt to guide him onto the bed and help him take off his clothes. Once the other man was leaning above him he let out a sigh.

“I think you will find I can pretend I love my master quite convincingly.”

It earned him a kiss on the lips.


	18. Siblings

“So it wasn't obedience after all.”

Mercutio looked up at Valentine and smiled weakly. “I don't know what you're on about.” He admitted.

“I'm on about that I was right all along.” Valentine said proudly and puffed his chest. “Tybalt told me about a week ago that he was upset with you because you'd stopped talking to him. He said that your behaviour could be fixed by obedience.”

The older brother let out a sigh. “And what did you tell him?”

Valentine smirked at him. “I told him that he had broken you and that it was totally not necessary because he loves you and you should love him and then all would be well.” He placed the spoon he'd been holding playfully between his teeth.

“Val!” Mercutio clutched his head in his hands and rolled his eyes. “You've said that? That's cheeky!”

“I know right!” Valentine proudly replied after taking the spoon from between his teeth again. He liked nibbling on things. “It had to be said.”

“No it hadn't. And didn't I tell you not to be brazen when around our master?”

“Yes, like a thousand times.” Valentine rolled his eyes. “But what would he do? Hurt me? Merc, please, if our master wishes to hurt me he hurts me and there's nothing we can do about it.”

“Yes there is.” Mercutio stood up from the wooden stool he'd been sitting on. They were in the kitchen once again. Valentine had provided him with a small cushion after this morning's ritual. It seemed Mercutio could use one. “We can prevent him hurting you by not provoking him! Dammit, Val.”

“Hush, hush. No cursing in the kitchen. Cook keeps telling me so every day.”

Mercutio looked at his younger brother and shook his head. “How can you still be making jokes when things are this serious?”

And now Valentine's smile fell. “I suppose it's needed to survive.”

“You need to be more careful, Val.” Mercutio urged, grabbing the boy's hand.

Valentine whispered. “I know.” Then after a short silence he shifted. “But you did love him.”

“Once.” The older brother interrupted and Valentine smiled.

“Once.” The younger sibling repeated. “I don't think that love has gone away completely. Has it?”

The doubt and curiosity on Valentine's face made Mercutio feel obliged to smile just to reassure him.

“Perhaps.” He admitted reluctantly, then gently squeezed Valentine's hand. “But love is not a question here. He asks me to behave and when I do.... I do it wrong. He asks me to be his slave and when I am he wants me to be myself how I used to be. I'm not free any more, Val, I'm practically in chains.” He dramatically raised his hands to show Valentine two clean wrists, no chains to be found at all, and the younger boy laughed.

“I'm glad to see you're getting back to be your old self again. I was starting to worry.”

“You too?” Mercutio said with a frown. “How odd. You start to sound a bit like our master.” He tried a poor imitation of Tybalt, walking stiffly and scowling, and the boy in front of him giggled even louder.

“I don't think he'll be flattered if he saw you imitate him that poorly.” Valentine pointed out.

“Ah well.” Mercutio shrugged.

A moment of silence passed while the younger of the siblings emptied his plate. He'd been having lunch. Mercutio had already had his while he worked in Tybalt's chamber and visited now that their master was gone for his daily chores.

In the moment of silence the expression of Valentine became thoughtful and then sombre. Mercutio noticed this and tried to capture the boy's attention by sticking his head in the boy's view and when that didn't work he waved his hands terribly close to the boy's eyes.

“Penny for your thoughts?” The older one tried.

Valentine huffed. “As if you have money....” Then clicked his tongue. “He asked me why the men hadn't touched me.”

“Oh Val....” The undertone of 'not again' was there, heavily.

“I told him the truth.” Valentine quickly said before licking the plate clean and placing it on top of the other dishes he still needed to wash. “I told him how you always made yourself the preferred one.”

“When did he ask you?” Mercutio wanted to know, he followed his brother's every movement with his eyes.

“Just this morning. He looked rather funny when he said it. But he keeps asking it. I don't know why. My answer is always the same.”

Mercutio looked at Valentine and knew that at this moment something in his eyes twinkled. He felt he knew what Tybalt must see when he looked at the boy. He felt he knew what Tybalt must feel and feared that he might be feeling the same.

In one swift motion he was off his stool again and with a few quick steps he was behind his brother who had opened the tab and was now using a brush to clean the first of the many dirty plates. He circled his arms round the smaller sibling, holding him in a tight embrace.

“I'll protect you, Val.” He whispered, feeling the smaller frame in his arms tremble slightly. A frown appeared on his face. Did his words scare his brother?

“Val?” He asked, but the boy shrugged and continued his chores like the other wasn't holding him and limiting his movements.

“I'm not sure what you're so worried about. Didn't you want to come up with a plan to get us out of here? Like.... soon?” The cheeky smile was visible even for Mercutio who placed a playful kiss on the younger sibling's cheek, watching the boy blush as a result.

“That's right. I am going to come up with an amazing plan!” He finally let go of the younger one and stepped away from him to raise his finger in the air.

Valentine chuckled. “A better plan than seducing our master and telling him you love him?”

Mercutio's eyes darkened dangerously. “I do  _not_ love our master. But I  _will_ tell him if he demands to hear it from me.” His shoulders slumped. “I am weak that way and I am aware of my weaknesses.”

He turned on his heels and picked up one of the pans, turned it upside down and put it on top of his head. “However,” he continued in a posh voice while Valentine stopped his chores of doing the dishes to stare at him, “the plan I will come up with will be ingenious and will set us free without a fail.”

“Sure.” Valentine said it but it didn't sound like he was sure at all. “And will you give me that helmet back, oh knight in the shining armour? Because I need it in my pantry.”

Quickly Mercutio handed the pan back to his sibling and smiled at him awkwardly. “Well, it just felt like the right time to wear a pan on my head.”

Valentine rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he said, and before he could start the expected ridiculing he did something unexpected by turning the pan upside down and placing it on top of his own head, then placed his hands on his hips and looked at his older brother sternly, “and it feels to me like the right time to make the master's bed and steal me one of those nice soft blankets Paris used to hide in the hallway closet. I was freezing last night.” He held up his hand and pointed at the ceiling where many spoons and other unearthly kitchen equipment dangled freely. “Now go and fulfil your quest!”

Mercutio bowed and with a snicker exited the room. Luckily his sibling was still able to make him smile. As he entered the hallway he saw the peering eyes of Peter and passed the man without a second glance in his direction. Surely his master would be informed of today's encounter.

Would he be mad to hear the two siblings had been having fun?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added two chapters today. Needed a bit of love and happiness. Look! It's snowing outside. Also, someone already guessed the story right, saying it was very obvious. I am glad for I wrote it that way. Hurray!


	19. Plan of Escape

Morning had broken but it were the groans of Valentine that actually woke Mercutio. He rubbed his eyes a few times, blinked and then rolled to his side to find that Tybalt was watching him.

The Capulet was resting with his head in his hand, leaning on his elbow, and looked entirely too calm.

They didn't need a word. Mercutio had stopped saying good morning long ago – wasn't it a rule not to speak unless one is spoken to? So he didn't bother. Sometimes Tybalt greeted them that way but quite often he would just pull Mercutio close to him and devour his mouth rather than say something sensible.

Mercutio expected such a greeting now for Tybalt's free hand had darted to his chin. His thumb gently stroked past his skin and then touched his lips, parting them as he pushed the tip in. His eyes were half-closed and focused on the boy. But instead of leaning closer he withdrew and got up from the bed.

“I need a moment.” He said, then made his way into the adjacent room and it took a few seconds before they could hear the tinkling sound of liquid against porcelain. Mercutio blinked. Had he escaped untouched? Or would Tybalt demand the usual from his body once he returned from the porcelain throne?

No matter now. He quickly rolled onto his belly and shove himself to the other side of the bed so he could peer over the edge to see Valentine curled on the floor. The extra blankets had done the thing. Valentine looked comfortable and sleeping. Only, Mercutio had known his younger sibling all his life and knew that Valentine never slept with his hand covering his face and his knee tucked in that particular angle. It was unnatural for the boy.

“Sleepy angel.” Mercutio whispered, reaching out a hand to poke the boy in his side until he giggled.

“Stop it!” Valentine's whisper was loud. The boy slapped his brother's hand away and smiled at him. “I pretend to be asleep just in case he comes back to take you.”

Mercutio rolled his eyes. Valentine had been witness to most of Mercutio's sexual moments these past few months and nothing should surprise or disgust the boy any more. Yet they both tried to give the other the most decency and decorum they could give. In Mercutio's case it was trying to get Valentine into the adjacent room so he couldn't watch. In Valentine's case it was closing his eyes and pretending he was asleep.

Mercutio's panting wasn't new to the boy, neither was the sound of body slapping against body or their master's grunts as he drove Mercutio deeper into the mattress. Valentine smiled weakly at the older boy. He was trying to convey that he was going to be all right.

Then the door opened rather rashly and Mercutio quickly turned back to face Tybalt as he made his return. The Capulet ran a hand through his raven locks and cleared his throat, then against Mercutio's expectations he walked round the bed until his eyes fell upon Valentine.

Mercutio's eyes darted down while his pulse quickened. But thank goodness, Valentine lay asleep, curled in a ball with his hands protecting and hiding most of his face. His hair was covered by the blankets, there wasn't much for his master to view. Valentine pretended well.

He smiled, his eyes searching Tybalt's face for a sign of emotion. But Tybalt didn't spare him a glance. Instead, he knelt down and tugged at the blankets, tearing them out of Valentine's grip and easing them down until the upper half of the boy lay exposed. Mercutio's breath hitched in his throat and he was grateful that Valentine was allowed to wear clothes. The sloppy t-shirt was an extra bonus; such an unattractive feature. He mentally complimented himself for having picked it out of the set of clothes given to them and for giving it to Valentine to wear.

He would have felt relieved still if the sudden softening of Tybalt's expression hadn't caught his attention and hadn't alarmed him. The Capulet bent over his sibling and reached out his hand to stroke the boy’s face with the back of it. His knuckles traced the soft skin and then he used his fingertips to push one hand of the boy away from his face so he could get to see more detail.

A nose, soft lips, a rosy colour on a cheek, a closed eye with long lashes of gold, even Mercutio felt the blood awkwardly being pumped from his rump down to a certain area. He wished not to think about it, but even as Valentine lay as ungainly as he possibly could it still gave him an erection.

And he couldn't be the only one feeling this effect, could he?

His eyes darted back to Tybalt whose chin chiselled. He let go of the hand and allowed it to fall back in place, covering Valentine's face and hiding his features from the preying eyes.

Shame. Pure shame overtook him. Had his own sibling made him hard? Had Tybalt noticed? He sweated, his eyes darted from left to right, but Tybalt seemed calm – too calm. The Capulet stood up, straightened his back and circled half the bed before he sat down on his own half. He hadn't looked Mercutio in the eye yet.

How had he become this depraved, Mercutio wondered silently. How had he allowed himself to become this corrupt that a mere look at his sibling could fill him with desire? Had it been because Valentine had always been there? His sibling had been watching when the guards took him, had been forced to kiss him during the slave-traders little games. He'd been there to watch when Tybalt took him and he was always there when Tybalt used his body to say goodnight.

“I had a talk with him the other day.”

The words came so sudden that Mercutio stared at Tybalt wide-eyed. But Tybalt's eyes were still on Valentine, not on him.

“Your little brother seems to be quite sure of the concept of love. He said that it is something we share. Something that we both are in.” Now finally he turned his gaze towards Mercutio, sending a shiver down the boy's spine. Tybalt's eyes were dark and the look in them ominous.

“Well?”

Mercutio found that his mouth had suddenly gone dry and it took him a few tries before he managed to find his voice and speak. “He thinks I am in love with you, Tybalt.”

Tybat flinched at the mention of his name – or was it at the mention of the word love?- but as Mercutio recalled his master had demanded for him to use his name again. It had happened just the other night when Mercutio prepared for bed and he heard Tybalt and Peter approach. Peter had grinned at him knowingly and Mercutio didn't even need to ask to hear that the servant had told Tybalt of the time spend between the two brothers. Tybalt hadn't become angry as he had feared. Instead, he had asked Mercutio if he loved his brother and how much. Afterwards he had forced Mercutio on the bed and had demanded him to call him by his name.

Apparently Valentine had been right and apparently addressing him as master wasn't enough to satisfy Tybalt. But now that he used it he felt worried and quickly added a “master” to his sentence anyway.

Tybalt popped a few pills in his mouth and put the bottle of medicine aside. He eyed Mercutio suspiciously. “And he thinks for me to be in love with you.”

A heavy silence hung in the air. Then Mercutio, remembering Tybalt's request – nay, plea- to be more like himself again, boldly dared to ask. “Are you, master?”

Something in Tybalt's eyes changed. His expression had gone from hard to soft again, but the softness lasted only a minute. Then he'd gone back to his usual scowl.

“That I demand you to tell me you love me and to call me by my name when we're in bed doesn't mean you should draw conclusions or speak before you're spoken to.” He pressed a finger against Mercutio's lips and smiled.

“However, we are getting away from the point. Your brother has been sleeping in the cold for quite a while now, hasn't he? Shouldn't he join us in bed?”

Mercutio froze.

“Ah, then again you gave some extra blankets. Do I need to assume you wouldn't want him in bed with us?” The smile turned cruel, “Did I already tell you, pet, that your brother is as much of a tease as you are?”

“Master!” The exclamation earned him a slap against his cheek. He could swear he heard Valentine hiss but there was no time for him now. He was afraid, very afraid, and looked at Tybalt with eyes full of fear.

“How old is he anyway?” Tybalt said as he stood up from the bed. “You never told me. Twelve? Thirteen? Older I think.”

He shook his head, seeing how Mercutio could only stare, and picked up his clothes.

“Remain silent if you wish, but once he gets of age he’d better watch his step or I won’t spare him from the same fate I’m bestowing on you.”

Mercutio’s eyes were left open wide. As Tybalt stormed out of the room and threw the door shut, poor Mercutio raised his arms to the ceiling and cried out loud. The agonising scream must be heard by the servants in the hallway.

He fell to his knees and sobbed. “No,” it was the only word that could escape him and he said it time after time just to hear his own voice and accept that this was real.

Tybalt’s words were a confession. A confession that he was attracted to Valentine and that although he might not sexually harass him now, he would do so once the boy was older.

“Fuck, Val, we need to get out of here. Now!”

Valentine was up on his knees in one fluid movement and looked at his brother in fright. His hand ran through the tangled long tresses of hair.

“Brother, we discussed this before. We can’t just walk out.”

“We bloody can!” Mercutio looked at Valentine and realised he’d been shouting. His eyes softened as did his voice. “We must, Val. We _can_.”

He continued propping clothes and other small items into a rucksack.

“You realise that’s theft?” Valentine said, pointing at the bag which clearly read the letters T. Capulet on it.

“It’s called borrowing. Besides, we won’t be caught.” Mercutio sounded certain of himself and in that moment he was. They were going to get out of there and it was going to happen today.

But a hand on his arm distracted him. Eyes filled with determination locked with eyes of the same colour but with a different intensity of emotion in them.

“All right. We will run.” A smile broke on Mercutio’s face when he heard his brother concur. “But I need to get some things.”

“Hurry then,” Mercutio said as he continued packing, “We will leave through the back-door and walk out of the gate at the end of the garden. I have an idea.”

Valentine nodded and then hurried out of the room. Mercutio didn’t wonder where he went. He knew it already. Valentine was sneaking into Rosaline’s room to get some items he would need on their trip to freedom.

With a sigh he closed the sack. They were going to get out.


	20. The Attempt

With the rucksack packed and his younger brother carrying a little bag of his own, Mercutio was convinced that this was the day the would get out of this hell. The boy peeked round the corner of the hall, waited till the servant disappeared from view, and then signalled for his sibling that the coast was clear. Valentine grabbed his arm, momentarily distracting him as he looked down at his sibling, then after a nod from them both they looked straight ahead and started their first steps into the hallway and towards their future.

Mercutio felt hot and cold at the same time. A tiny drop of sweat slid down his temple. Just as he was starting to feel comfortable with his fate things had to be ruined. He recalled his struggle – the loss of his dignity when the men raped him, the lengths he wanted to go to protect his sibling, the pain of being forced into his old home and to change it, the scare of walking into Lady Capulet which could happen any given time, the betrayal of Juliet, the fates of Benvolio and Romeo- he could bear it all. He could even live with it. But a threat made by Tybalt to ravish Valentine. No.

It was the final straw and with determination written all over his face he led the boy through the corridors and towards the exit at the back of the house. It was going rather easy. Valentine had managed to steal some food and water out of the kitchen. If they'd be careful with what they had and made a real quick run for it then they could easily reach the next nearby city in less than a day's time, pay for a ride as far away as possible, and think of a way to escape the country. Mercutio knew that money wouldn't be a big problem. If it meant he would have to sell his body to keep him and his brother safe he would do it without a flinch.

Reaching the door went a lot easier than they had thought and the moment Mercutio's hand was on the knob he found Valentine's hand hovering over his. He locked eyes with the boy who gave him a nod.

“We can do this. I'm with you.” And with those words Valentine's smaller hand was placed on top of his own and together they opened the door.

Fresh air brushed past their cheeks, weak light of the sun was fighting to get through the clouds to warm them, and in the distance people were singing. Mercutio blanched.

“The gardeners.” He didn't need to explain. Valentine pulled him out of sight and quickly shut the door. 

“Fuck, they're working.” Valentine brought his hands in his hair and pulled slightly at the strands, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Val?” Mercutio's eyes were wide as well but more because of having heard that his brother cursed.

“Perhaps we should wait till it's dark.” Valentine finally said with a defeated sigh. Yet his expression still showed the determination to break free.

Mercutio nodded.

Escaping during the dark would be easier once they were outside. First of all the gardeners would be gone as would be the maids, and the guards would be less likely to spot them. Also, if they went out around ten they would only have to dodge Tybalt and his little squad, as they knew he would be patrolling around that time giving them an advantage. If they could dodge him he wouldn't notice their absence until they had an hour or so head start.

“Good plan.” Mercutio finally admitted after having thought out loud. “We just need to hide our bags, preferably here.”

“Let me do it.” Valentine was already on it, swinging the smaller bag behind a pile of gardening tools and then took Mercutio's rucksack before he could protest and managed to hide it behind the rack used by the servants to put their working shoes on. There were already many wooden clogs on it and some workers suits strewn over them.

“It's a risk but we'll have to take it.” The younger brother clarified after clapping his hands. “Now, for the daily routine. I'm heading to the kitchen. Cook will miss me. And you, my fine young lad,” he placed a hand on Mercutio's shoulder, and the older sibling was quite certain Valentine would have wrapped the arm around his shoulder if he'd been taller, and led him along. “You will accompany me to the kitchen where I shall hand you a bucket of water with soap so you can pretend you spilled something in master's room and didn't wish anyone to know by secretly cleaning it yourself.”

“But I didn't -?”

Valentine shushed him and they halted. “It's just an excuse, you know. As to why you're out of the room in case anyone sees you.”

It took Mercutio a second before understanding dawned and his face brightened. “Ah, I see. Good one.”

They continued their way when Mercutio, sounding a tad unsure, dared to ask. “Then tonight we'll get out?”

“Tonight we'll get out.” Valentine confirmed, a small smile curling his lips. He did as he had said and took Mercutio to the kitchen with him, then handed him the bucket with water and the soap. They both ignored the cook the best they could – she was fuming and cursing. Valentine rolled his eyes as he pushed his brother out of the kitchen.

“And she said I had a foul mouth.” Valentine winked at him. “See you later, bro!”

And just like that Mercutio was on his own. Without his sibling's bubbly presence he instantly started to fall back into grim thoughts and heaps of worries. The water in the bucket sloshed with each step he took.

_Soon_ they would be out of here.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The voice made him feel cold, as if ice had formed inside his stomach. He had felt eyes upon him, as if someone had been following his steps, but when he had looked around he had seen no one. But now all of a sudden here she was.

“Oh? Mercutio?” He could tell by her smile that she was wanting to pounce on him again, and he knew that even with his master's warning she was the type to still try and act on her longing. He tried taking a step back, but then her sweet smile turned into an evil scowl.

“What are you doing boy?” He hastily set the bucket down to bow for her as would be expected. But she came closer while she talked. “A quick tumble shouldn’t upset your master. After all, there is no need for him to know.” Her hand had already clamped round his wrist and with a painful twist she managed to pull the boy to her. He couldn’t struggle – not too much. He cried out, the grip on his arm tight and the twisting of his skin painful.

He tried to push himself away, struggled best as he could and managed to turn them both around. He gasped when Lady Capulet raised her hand and actually hit him in the face. A nasty gash from her nails was visible, a tiny bit of blood trickling from the wounds. Mercutio’s eyes had gone wide as he pleaded her. “Please, no.”

But she hissed at him like a snake and pushed him backwards in order to trap him between the wall and her body. Her attempt was miscalculated. Between Mercutio and the wall stood a little table with a vase on it containing freshly cut flowers, as well as some papers that Lord Capulet had placed there. The push had him bump painfully against the table with his back, having the edge of the wood press into his lower back which made him hiss. The impact made the table wobble and the vase fall. With a loud crash it fell to the floor and scattered into several pieces.

Mercutio gasped, speechless this time, and watched in fright at the shards on the floor. Lady Capulet’s eyes had travelled there as well before the focused on him again, but she wasn’t easily distracted from her needs.

Her hand was on his crotch in an instant, painfully pushing on him as she leant forward with most of her weight before she hissed in his ear. “You shall pleasure me boy. The others be damned.”

“Aunt.”

He didn’t even need to shout. Tybalt’s low and almost monotone voice was enough to have her freeze and Mercutio hold his breath. They had heard him, knew he was there and could sense his anger from where he stood several feet behind Lady Capulet.

She reluctantly let go of Mercutio, straightened her dress and then turned to smile at her nephew sweetly.

“Tybalt. I was just reprimanding your slave. It seems the poor thing is clumsy. Really, I’m not sure what worth he must have left for you. He can’t be fucked and he can’t be trusted not to break our belongings…”

“By you.” Tybalt finished for her. His eyes were firmly fixed on her and his face was a grimace. “He can’t be fucked by you.” He clarified.

She gasped and faked surprise by pressing a hand theatrically against her chest. “Nephew! To hear this of you? You know fully well what Giovanni’s men did to him. He has a sloppy hole! You told me so, or have you forgotten? He is damaged, my dear. Surely you can’t take much pleasure out of him. Why not use a younger slave? Or one less touched?”

To his credit, Tybalt kept remarkably calm despite the insults and the way his aunt tried to twist words to get herself out of this situation with the prize she wanted: Mercutio. Everyone in the room knew what she was trying to achieve but Tybalt would not allow it.

“Why I have chosen this slave is my own concern. I have no interest in your toy boys, aunt. We’re not going to swap.”

“But Benvolio is-“ She tried but he cut her short.

“Benvolio is not of interest to me.” Tybalt finished strongly. He would not be persuaded and his aunt pressed her lips into a tight line. She took a moment to think things through.

“He will still need punishment for breaking our lovely China vase.” She then said tersely.

“He might. But any punishment administered to him will be done by my hand.” As if to prove his words Tybalt raised his gloved hand up high. He seemed to be very certain of his case.

“Tybalt.” Lady Capulet didn’t sound as delighted as she could have been. There was a certain look of disappointment in her eyes as she crossed to room to stand in front of him. Mercutio was just glad to have the distance between them increase. He felt as if he could finally breathe again and for a second time since his imprisonment he felt as if Tybalt was his saviour rather than his oppressor. 

And then Tybalt actually said the words. Words that sent a shiver down Mercutio’s spine and made him feel warm on the inside.

“I will protect him.” Tybalt shouted. Mercutio’s world stood still. His eyes glazed over. The argument in front of him wasn’t done yet but he couldn’t hear it. Whatever was being said could only be less important than what he had just heard Tybalt shout in his fury. It had been an impulse and had this man not threatened his siblings virtue that very morning he would have perhaps loved the man for it.

Twisted. He was twisted. Whatever had happened in his life had come to a boiling point and it had changed him from a solid state into something bubbly and different.

Mercutio’s feelings for his master were confusing; mixed. He hated him. He still loved him. He disliked what he did to him, he enjoyed what the man did to him. If things had been different…..

“Tybalt, you surprise me?” Lady Capulet said. “You stand up for a mere slave.”

“A mere slave? My slave! And I swear he did not break that vase on purpose. So if you please, good aunt, I would ask of you to call for a maid to clean up this mess, and then have my slave return to my room where he is safe from your advances.”

Mercutio knelt down to pick up the bucket. The water still inside. He was grateful for having had the inkling to put the bucket down before Lady Capulet had reached his side or else there would be not just a mess of porcelain but also of water all over the floor. He gave his master one careful glance but could see Tybalt’s silent order for him to retreat. Then he left the room.


	21. My friend Benvolio

After Mercutio had been sent back to Tybalt’s room by his master, he waited for the man himself to come. Tybalt kept his word, showing himself to the frightened lad by standing in the doorway and sighing. Other than that he did nothing to close the gap between them.

“You were lucky I had to come retrieve something. Normally I would have been on my round.” Tybalt’s right hand had curled into a fist and a muscle in his jaw twitched. The thought of what could have happened was unbearable.

Mercutio hung his head in shame. He too was aware of the danger he had escaped.

“And what were you doing out of the bedroom anyway?” Tybalt snarled at him. “You have clear instructions.”

Mercutio trembled slightly. “I had spilt… something.” He mumbled. The lie sounding weak when there was no damage found in any corner of the room. “And I had to get water to clean it?”

Tybalt folded his arms in front of his chest and gave him a challenging look. “Really? When there’s water in the bathroom?”

“Soap!” Mercutio nearly exclaimed. “Soap and a bucket and a sponge. I had to get them from the kitchen.”

Tybalt sighed and shook his head. “I’ll have to go back to my job, pretty. But we’ll discuss this matter later this evening. Now be wise and stay in this room at least till noon. My aunt will be away with Lord Capulet. They should leave around 12. If you want to seek out one of your friends or your sibling you might want to wait with creeping around till she’s gone.”

With that said he turned around and left. Mercutio stood there, dumbfounded and with nothing to say. He whispered a silent thank you when Tybalt couldn’t hear anymore because it took him that long to realise his master had given him some kind of permission to leave the room and seek out his friends and his brother. That was above anything he had ever expected.

Till the clock struck twelve Mercutio remained in Tybalt’s room, cleaning and sorting his documents. As soon as it was time he made his way quietly into the hall and listened. Ten minutes past twelve Lady Capulet appeared in the hallway below, after much worried encouragements of her husband who claimed ‘we’re going to be late’. But Mercutio needed a few more minutes after she had left to be sure she was actually gone. The fear that she would return to pick up a forgotten handbag was keeping him from leaving the safety of Tybalt’s room – the door stood open wide so he could duck back into it when necessary.

When half an hour had passed he finally found the courage to close the door and make his way through the halls. Tempting as it was, he would not seek out Valentine. They would see each other soon enough.

No, there was something else in the back of his mind. Worry for his friends.

Lady Capulet scared him. Juliet repulsed him. How safe had Romeo and Benvolio been? Good God, he’d seen how Romeo was after the Montagues had been conquered and it wasn’t a pretty sight. But as Mercutio came closer to Juliet’s chambers he could hear sounds, muffled voices, and was that the sound of a whip? More giggles, a hoarse cry – Mercutio knew that she was still at home.

Romeo had to wait then. It was too risky to get close to the room and search for his friend there. If Juliet caught him things could end up badly. He was supposed to be a slave trapped to a bed, after all.

After skilfully dodging some of the servants and using the hidden passages between the walls, Mercutio found himself passing a room thoughtlessly when he heard someone whistle for him. He turned his head with a jab – after all it might be Lady Capulet or Peter- but found his eyes grow wide at the sight of Benvolio.

His good little friend stood in the doorway, a collar around his neck and long chains running from his wrists into the room. He cracked a careful smile and shyly looked at Mercutio’s feet. “Haven’t seen you in a while, handsome.”

Mercutio felt the blood rush to his cheeks.

Often he had called his friend the pretty one, chased him for a kiss which had always been denied and now he found himself at the receiving end. His friend was teasing him, breaking the ice and the tension that hung between them. Mercutio quickly threw his arms around the smaller man and, not knowing where it came from, started to sob.

“Hey, hey, here you go.” Benvolio patted his back comfortingly. “Let’s get into the room. My mistress isn’t supposed to be back till six so we have a little privacy.” Mercutio merely nodded while his friend helped him in and then closed the door. The boy could now see for the first time that the chains to Benvolio’s wrists were actually stuck to the bed, allowing him to move through the bedroom but not outside of it. He winced.

“She-She got you-?” He didn’t get any further but it didn’t matter. Benvolio understood him and as they sat down on the neatly made bed – it looked fresh enough or else Mercutio would have never dared to sit down on it- Benvolio kept caressing his back with gentle strokes.

“Easy, lad, easy.” He said.

The Escalus boy managed to smile. “Ironical. Usually it was I who made the jokes to make my friends feel at ease.”

“You’re just scared.” Benvolio whispered. “And tired. You’ve had a lot of weight to carry.”

“I didn’t do it on my own.” Mercutio whispered his reply. To whisper like this felt good, confidential. Although no one was around to hear them they still felt as if they couldn’t be cautious enough. Servants like Peter might be with their ear against the door.

“No.” Benvolio said, giving his friend a tight hug before letting him go. “But perhaps that is what makes it even harder for you.”

Mercutio dropped his head.

“Ben?” He finally said after a moment of consideration. “You know you’re still my best friend, right?”

Benvolio chuckled slightly. “Yeah.”

“Will you get away with me? Val and I, we have a plan to get out. Tonight.”

If the Montague boy's eyes could have grown any bigger they would have. “You are serious?” He asked. His surprised expression instantly made room for a more pensive one and he pressed a finger against his lips. He looked as if he was in good shape still, Mercutio noticed, something he might not have expected after seeing Romeo.

“I would love to get out of here.” Benvolio finally said, but then he frowned. “But don't you think that is quite a risk? If they catch you they'll kill you.”

“What?” Mercutio nearly exclaimed at this new piece of information. “What do you mean?” He noticed he was starting to sweat – is that what they call the sweat of fear?

“Well,” his friend started slowly while tapping his fingertips together, “Just saying Lord Capulet got himself a nice slave girl. You might have known her, Manuella. We used to grow up with her. She got till the end of the garden before they caught her after which she was brought back into the house and tortured to death by Lady Capulet.”

Mercutio's face had gone as white as a sheet. “You make that up.” He said, voice weak and the attempt to calm himself feeble.

But Benvolio shook his head. “Sorry to say this is true. I was there. Lady Capulet made me watch....” He could speak no more. His voice cracked and tears welled up in his eyes. Now it was Mercutio's turn to embrace his friend and bring him comfort.

“I'm sorry,” the redhead whispered into his friend's blonde hair, “I'm sorry you had to go through all that.”

A rather harsh gasp escaped Benvolio's throat as he sobbed. “Oh Mercutio,” he lamented while he clutched the boy close to him, “as if being Lady Capulet's toy isn't enough.... the horrors they made me watch.... but it is going to end soon.”

“Yes.” Mercutio slowly said. Then his eyes turned wide and he grabbed his friend's arms strongly. “Yes, because you're getting out with us. With me.”

But Benvolio's sobs didn't subside and the boy shook his head fiercely. “No,” he sobbed, “that's not what I meant. Lady Capulet put me in some kind of lottery. Oh Merc, she's going to give me away to somebody else soon.”

Mercutio froze.

His friend. Given away. Brain-freeze. His lips turned into a snarl as his grip on his friend's arms tightened again. “You're not going anywhere, Ben. The only place you will go is to freedom with me and with Val.”

The boy's smile was most beautiful as he looked up through his tears and though there wasn't a trace of hope to be found in his eyes, there was a faint glimmer of compassion and a strong hint of love in them as he in turn held Mercutio's wrists tightly.

“I'd love to, Mercutio.” He said, voice trembling. “I'd love to.”

“Then it's settled.” Mercutio said while standing up from the bed. “You will come with us tonight.” And before Benvolio could protest he wiggled a finger in the air. “No problems that can't be overcome, my dear Ben. When your Lady turns in for the night we will wait outside your door and use one of the secret passages to get to the kitchen at the back. There we have a few bags hidden to help us on our journey and we will get out. Tybalt's on his rounds by ten. He's usually away till a quarter past one. That will give us plenty of time to-”

“Lady Capulet usually demands a little satisfaction round eleven.” Benvolio said, voice flat but his eyes still watering.

“Then we wait for you.” Mercutio placed his hands on his friend's shoulders. “We're not going anywhere without you, Ben.”

Benvolio smiled – and wasn't it beautiful? Mercutio felt his breath hitch in his chest.

“You know, despite all I've said,” the Montague started shyly, his eyes everywhere again except upon Mercutio, “I've always thought you're a good looking guy.”

“Ah well, honoured as I am,” Mercutio bowed and chuckled, “there'll be plenty of time to admire me later. First I need to see if I can get to Romeo. We can't leave him out of our plans.”

Benvolio's smile fell and he looked down at the floor again. “Ah, Romeo....” The boy's cheeks turned red with humiliation. “Lady Capulet made me fuck him. She took delight in it but it gave me no pleasure.”

Mercutio was silent. What was he to say?

“She even suggested for us to fuck, several times actually, but Tybalt wouldn't let her.”

Now that news made him look up and soon frown worriedly at his friend.

“Not that I minded,” Benvolio continued casually, “the thought of being in you is what got me off during her sessions.” His cheeks burned even brighter now, but no longer just of shame.

Mercutio cleared his throat. “Well, as I said, Ben. Soon she won't be telling you who and what to do anymore. And neither will she tell Romeo. I'll get him for us and together we will escape. All of us.”

“I don't know.” Benvolio said worriedly. “The four of us is a rather big group. How will we manage it?” There was hope in his voice though, he wasn't giving up on this plan.

“We will.” Mercutio said with a reassuring smile. “Just leave the details of our plan to me.”

Benvolio sighed. “I'd rather he didn't say that.....”

But Mercutio had already managed to quietly sneak out of the room.


	22. Intermezzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercutio and Tybalt have a talk.

Unfortunately time was not on their side. After the chat with Benvolio Mercutio had hurried back to Juliet's chambers. Thinking he was in luck, he found the door ajar. Then he hesitated when he heard Romeo moaning softly from behind them. But as he tried to open the doors more so he was able to spot the frame of his friend hunched over the bed, softly lamenting his existence, he could hear the front door and the hall filled with voices.

Lord and Lady Capulet had returned.

He had given the clock in the hallway a quick look to see he'd spent more time with Benvolio than he had imagined, and with a sigh pushed himself away from Juliet's chamber. It was no use. He could hear Juliet greet her parents and then make her way up the stairs. He had to be swift and by making use of one of the secret passages he quickly made his way back to the safe haven of Tybalt's chamber.

“Insanity at its best.” He hissed to himself as he closed the door behind him and ran his hands through his hair. “I have to sneak around in my own home.”

But no, this place wasn't his home anymore. Not since the Capulets had won and his uncle had been brutally killed.

He did not give up on his friend though. As expected, Juliet was around her room most of the time, making a meeting with Romeo something difficult to achieve. He also didn't like the risk running round the house would pose to him if he came across Lady Capulet again. And if he was as bold as to walk around the premises freely, what would his master say?

Darn. Mercutio flinched as he realised he had just been considering Tybalt's feelings. Did the man have any? He had abused him all of his life. Did the man even know how to be kind?

A vague echo of Valentine's voice entered his mind. Did his sibling really believe a kind man could be buried underneath all the Capulet pride, anger and shame?

He leant back in the chair and sighed. Most of the work had been done and there wasn't much to it then to wait. During his time alone he decided to write a small letter as he figured that Romeo might be able to read it. But then the thought of Romeo's bad eye hit him and the danger a letter could pose if it was found by Juliet or husband. Their plan could be exposed. Plus, Romeo's sight might be even less than Mercutio feared it to be. The boy had taken a nasty blow to the head, one eye had clearly lost all vision to it. Could he read with what was left?

He crumpled the paper and threw it in the bin with a groan.

Eventually his master entered and took off his gloves. He stripped down to his shirt, keeping his trousers and everything below on, feeling more comfortable without the heavy weight of his coat and the extra layers to keep his chest protected.

Mercutio just watched him and hen forced a smirk. “Glad to be home for dinner, master?”

Tybalt threw him a glance and though he no doubt could see that Mercutio's smirk was strained he took it without comment. “I am hungry indeed, pet. Not just for food.”

He stood up from where he'd sat and took a few steps towards Mercutio until he was looming over him. “I love it when you're cheeky like that, pet.” Tybalt hummed as he cradled Mercutio's head in his hands and with closed eyes he rubbed his lips past the boy's forehead. “Love it when you're fiery and mischievous.”

Then suddenly he let go and took his distance. Mercutio watched him, cautiously and wondering what was to happen next, just to see Tybalt take something against his headache. The soft smile that now twitched his lips was genuine.

“There is still something we need to discuss, pet, but we can discuss it later. There's no hurry.”

Tybalt turned to look at him from over his shoulder and caught sight of Mercutio's genuine smile. For a moment he stood frozen, then his shoulders visibly relaxed.

“So, tell me pretty boy, did you go to see your sibling in the kitchen?”

Now it was Mercutio's turn to tense. He mumbled something inaudible and turned his eyes to the floor.

At this point Tybalt could have questioned him further but he didn't. He just let out a rough laugh, head thrown back, and then shook his head. “No, pet, no. You two are such devils.” There was a twinkle in his eye but he turned around before Mercutio could identify what it was.

“Call Peter and tell him to get me some tea.” With these words the Capulet sat himself down on the chair Mercutio had just risen from and started to browse through the paper-files on the desk in front of him.

Mercutio raised a brow – like he didn't notice how his master seemed to take pleasure from the warmth he had left on the chair. He then did as he was said.

Time after that seemed to pass with the speed of a snail and both were playing the silence game. Tybalt sat behind his desk, though it seemed he had no concentration for the papers in front of him and had lost interest ages ago. He opted to stare bluntly at Mercutio who in turn was seated on the bed and eyed his master challengingly. He had remained silent until he knew his master couldn’t take it anymore.

With an almost feral growl Tybalt rose from his chair and was on top of the boy within moments. His hands were tearing at the shirt clinging to Mercutio's frame, roving over his body, touching every part, feeling all there was to feel, almost as if he was afraid to lose him.

And Mercutio felt guilty when he thought of it. He did feel bad that this was perhaps the last time Tybalt could touch him like this, feel his pliant body beneath his fingertips, knead the flesh of his thighs in his hands.

Would the Capulet be able to find anyone who would invite him as willingly as he did, Mercutio wondered. Would there be someone who could give Tybalt the pleasure like he did?

A stinging sensation was within his chest and Mercutio had to bite back a sob when he realised that he had gotten so very used to being handled this way that the absence of Tybalt's touch would be unsettling. To think that he would leave the other man alone in this lair of evil made him feel like he was evil himself.

Which was nonsense, wasn't it? Where did those thoughts come from and why now? Why, as he cried out at the intrusion of the other into his body, would he consider Tybalt? Why would he worry about the man feeling lonely or lacking sex? Why? Why? Why?

When the ordeal was over and Tybalt lay heavily upon him, eyes closed and breathing gradually turning steady, Mercutio's thoughts became coherent again. He glanced down at the man, not much older than himself, who called himself his master.

It happened on a whim, he couldn't explain why or how, but Mercutio gently swiped a strand of raven-coloured hair out of Tybalt's face. The man twitched then slowly opened his eyes to meet his.

What he saw in them made him breathless, as if the air had been caught from him, and his lips parted unwillingly in a breathless sigh. _Loneliness. Love._

Then again, this man here meant to dishonour Valentine. And Mercutio couldn't let that happen. No matter the cost.

“Rest now, master, dinner won't be up for another twenty minutes or so.” Mercutio forced a smile while he played with Tybalt's hair.

Miraculously enough, Tybalt let him.


	23. The Escape

“Psst, Val?”

Valentine ducked his head from behind the curtains and gestured at him. So far so good.

The corridors were dark, all candles had been extinguished and most of the staff had gone to their quarters. It wasn't terribly late. Some of the servants, like Peter, were still having a laugh in the west wing. But the path to freedom was found in the dark, unprotected and unguarded.

Mercutio wanted to laugh.

This was pathetically easy. He had expected more danger and more chance of failure to their plan. Here he was, next to the door that could mean his freedom, with his sibling by his side who was already carrying their bags.

Well, sort of. Valentine handed him the heavier bag which was still scraping past the floor.

“Here you go.” The boy said with a cheeky smile.

“Why me?” Mercutio theatrically lamented, though his voice was hushed.

“Because you're the tallest and thus you get to carry the most.” Valentine retorted, then clapped a hand to his thigh. “Ha-ha.”

“Next time sound like you mean it.” Mercutio said, not quite impressed by his sibling's impression of a laugh.

Mercutio silently opened the door. Fresh midnight air greeted them and both closed their eyes to inhale. This was a magical moment, with their freedom so near. Then Mercutio closed it and reached for the key. Valentine had managed to get one of the spare ones when he had delivered soup to Lady Capulet's room earlier that day. He took the key out of the lock and placed it on the nearest table. Then he joined his brother. Everything was ready for their escape: the supplies and the escape route.

Together they stood in front of the door, opposite of each other. Valentine took a deep breath and then reached for Mercutio's hand. He allowed the boy to take it but had to bite his lip. Valentine's touch was warm and soft and just overly delightful.

The thoughts he had were a sin.

“So what now, big brother?” Valentine's voice brought him out of his thoughts. “Tybalt should be patrolling the premises with his squad.”

As if there was any danger left in this forsaken city, Mercutio thought sourly. Apparently there was though, for Tybalt had informed him a few days ago that with the Montagues out of the way the Capulets had started an argument with the Bagnoli family who lived in Vicenza and were practically the ruling power there. Apparently the Capulet's feared that the Bagnoli's would come to Verona.

Mercutio had to admit he'd never heard about them before. When he had told Valentine his sibling had hit him on the head and reminded him that their uncle had often been visiting them for politics when he was still alive. And Mercutio actually felt ashamed for once that he'd never paid any real interest in his uncle's matters.

He subconsciously rubbed his cheek. “We have to wait for Benvolio. I promised to take him with us as soon as Lady Capulet's gone to sleep.”

Valentine rolled his eyes. “I know. She would go to bed somewhere after eleven, you told me.”

The older brother winced. “Yes, well, something like that.”

“Which means,” Valentine continued, “that our actual escape can't take place unless it's somewhere round twelve, after we know that Lady Capulet is fast asleep. We need to minimize our risks.”

It was just after ten when Mercutio had left the room. He had to wait till Tybalt had gone patrolling. In the meanwhile Tybalt had been under the impression that Valentine had been asleep in the bathroom. Figured Valentine wasn't. Instead, the younger sibling had taken the opportunity of sneaking round the house to inform Romeo to stand by. And he had managed it.

“It's twelve past ten now, which leaves us with about an hour if we're lucky till Benvolio is free. Which means we've got about an hour to get Romeo. Plenty of time! Romeo is ready for the escape. Juliet's away for the night with her husband.”

Mercutio stared at the boy, clearly impressed. “Yes. Exactly the plan I had in mind.”

“Good.” Valentine ran a hand through his long hair and sighed. Mercutio followed the movement of his sibling's hand with his eyes and couldn't help but think the sight of it to be enthralling. “And pray tell, dear brother of mine, how you wish to remove Benvolio's bonds?”

True, Benvolio had been tied to the bed, unable to leave the room, with shackles around his wrists. Mercutio's smile couldn't have been brighter. “For that, I have brought this!” He proudly revealed an Aussie, a by-pass cutter he had picked up in one graceful movement from the pile of gardening tools.

Valentine just held his head in his hands and tried not to give the impression that their situation was hopeless. “If this doesn't work...” The boy said.

“Oh, it will. You mark my words.” Mercutio pushed the bag he had been holding back in the corner next to the door.

“Just keep an eye on it for me a bit longer, would you?” He told Valentine. “I'm going to get Romeo and Benvolio.”

“No way,” Valentine said, sounding annoyed, and hid his own bag again, “I'm coming with you. You didn't think I would let you do this heroic action all on your own, did you?”

Mercutio growled in annoyance. “Listen, you part in this plan was to inform Romeo to stand by. You did that and we're lucky he'll be easy to pick up. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you risk your life snooping round the house.”

The younger one protested with a huff. “As if you are safe yourself with Lady Capulet after your arse!”

“Oi!” Mercutio warned him.

Valentine just gave him a cheeky smile.

“Perhaps we could split up?” Mercutio said. “One of us will stand and wait in front of Lady Capulet's room till she's done with Benvolio, and one of us will get Romeo and bring him to the door here.”

“No,” Valentine determinedly shook his head, “we stick together. Also, Romeo is our main priority. We have to get him out first. And then we'll have to figure out how to get Benvolio free without Lady Capulet noticing.”

Their plan did seem risky. “It would have been better if Lady Capulet would have been gone for the night.” Mercutio lamented. “Then we would have had an hour of time to free Benvolio. But as it is now we'll have seas of time to get Romeo and just a tiny bit of time left to unshackle Ben and get him out of the house with us.”

A hand was placed on his shoulder as Valentine pushed him away from the door and from their chance to freedom. “No moping, bro. We have business to do.”

Together they made it through the hallway unseen. Mercutio led them and he was the one to gently open the door to Juliet's chambers. Romeo sat up straight. He was ready to escape. With a wide smile he ran to his friends – well, best as he could hobble- and greeted them in silence.

“Mercutio, Val....” There were so many emotions in that voice of his.

“It's okay, Romeo, we're getting you out.”

Valentine couldn't have been prouder of his brother at that moment. Mercutio seemed to have regained his courage and his ability to comfort others. Romeo was smiling at the words of his friends. The three of them made their way to Lady Capulet's chamber where they stood in the shadows, waiting.

Mercutio bit his lip and stared at the clock in the hallway. Through the darkness it was hard to discern the time but he was fairly sure that it was near eleven. “Just a few more minutes....” They could hear voices in from inside the room. Lady Capulet was laughing. Then a low voice gave orders.

“Is that...?” Valentine asked.

“Lord Capulet.” Romeo said. “He's with them.”

They were silent as they heard Lord Capulet speak for a long while. Then Benvolio could be heard, pleading. Hard smacks of a whip followed and mingled with Lady Capulet's cries of joy. Mercutio scrunched his face and looked away. This was something he didn't wish to know.

He gazed down over the balustrade at the hallway below just in time to see how the front door opened.

In came Tybalt.


	24. The door to freedom

It's too early. Mercutio's mind raced. It's too damn early. Tybalt usually disappears round ten and only returns in the early morning. It's not even eleven yet! What is he doing here?

Mind racing, Mercutio swiftly turned away and stepped out of Tybalt's sight. He was by his brother's side within an instant, interfering the silent mumble between Valentine and Romeo by stepping in between them and effectively silencing them by placing a hand on their shoulders. Both looked at him in expectation.

“Tybalt,” Mercutio mouthed at them. Romeo frowned, he hadn't seen the motion of lips in the dark but knew it had been there. He was oblivious to the danger still. But Valentine had caught it and froze.

“Is Tybalt back? Now?” Valentine whispered as softly as he could. Romeo inched closer to the boy, eager to hear what was being said. When Mercutio saw his friend's movement he moved his lips to cover the boy's ear and whispered Tybalt's name. Now Romeo finally understood what this was about and his eye widened in fear.

“We've got to hide.” Romeo said.

Valentine shook his head. “He'll head for our room. He'll go crazy if we aren't there waiting for him.” he grabbed his brother's arm. “We need to go.”

“And abandon our escape plan? I don't think so!” Valentine had to shush Mercutio because his whisper had been getting harsher and thus more pronounced, easier to pick up for ears below.

Valentine leant over the balustrade but instantly drew back.

“What's he doing?” Mercutio asked, voice barely audible again.

“I don't know.” Valentine frowned, his expression betraying he didn't like the whole situation one bit. “It's as if he's stalling, as if he's looking for something.”

“His marbles.” Mercutio joked, earning him an annoyed look from his sibling.

“We need to get back.” Valentine had grabbed his arm. “There are two options. Or we run for it and leave Benvolio behind, or we go back via the hidden passageway and try for it again tomorrow.”

Mercutio bit his lip. He knew that if they wouldn't make it today, then their bags might be discovered in the morning. But to leave Benvolio behind. He couldn't do that.

“Run.” Both brothers turned their head to give Romeo a look of surprise. Yet the boy seemed adamant and serious when he spoke. “Run, for God's sake. Run while you still can. This household is like poison and they will discover your secrets soon enough. Where will it take you? Will you end up like poor Benvolio or me? Mutilated or expandable? Don't hesitate. Run.”

Mercutio, encouraged by his friends words and silenced by the glimmer in Romeo's good eye, grabbed his friend by the shoulders, but his lip and then nodded. “Come on Val, we're leaving.” He started towards the hidden passage that would take them downstairs via an old forgotten servant staircase. “Romeo, with us.”

Romeo made a noise of agreement and with a soft whisper of 'Forgive me, Benvolio,' he pushed Valentine forward with his good hand. The young boy was the only one who protested to their plan, thinking it cruel to leave Benvolio behind like this, but reluctantly let himself be pushed into the secret passage.

The three made their way down the stairs where Mercutio already stood, watching. He had pushed the panel slightly ajar, as if the wall had suddenly moved an inch or two forward, and let out a breath he'd been holding before he pushed it open even further. “He's gone. Be on your guard. Now move.”

Valentine was at his side within an instant, eyes scanning the now empty hall. “What's the plan?”

Mercutio's whisper was a little louder this time as to make sure Romeo, who had come to stand at his other side, would hear and understand him too. “We run.” He licked his lips, sweat of anxiety wetting his palms and his forehead. He had fear but they had gone too far to step back and abandon their plan. “We run to the kitchen. Val you grab the little bag I will grab the big one, and then we run outside. We run and run and run till our feet can't carry us no more and then we'll pray that Tybalt's still far enough behind us to catch up and find us.”

“It's a good plan.” Valentine said to raise everyone's spirits. Of course their future seemed rather bleak at the moment. With Tybalt already on his way to his room the chance of actually getting very far without being captured was rather down to zero.

“Now run!” At the signal given by Mercutio, the three started a mad dash down the hall into the direction of the kitchen. Mercutio with his long legs was the first to arrive there. Temporarily haven forgotten where he had hidden the big bag, he decided to open the back-door first so his brother and his friend could make a smooth escape. His hand was on the handle when Valentine entered the kitchen and picked up the smaller bag. The boy halted in front of the door and caught his breath. Then a frown came on his face.

“What's wrong?”

Mercutio stood motionless, his face pale in the moonlight which shone down upon him through the kitchenwindow.

“Someone locked the door.”

“Well then, we need the key.” Valentine said, hands travelling past items on the nearby table.

“No, Val,” Mercutio's voice became even softer. “I left the door unlocked.”

Now these words had Valentine stop his movements and look at him with scared eyes. Someone had been there while they had been away. Someone had locked the door!

Panic, both boys felt it. Valentine's hand then suddenly started to feel the table with more vigour than before, desperately hoping to find the key Mercutio had placed there. But it was gone.

“Looking for this, pet?”

Scared to turn around, Mercutio squeezed his eyes shut and wished that this was all a nightmare. His shoulders trembled slightly at the sound of that all too familiar voice.

In the doorway stood Tybalt, casually, as if his slaves hadn't been attempting an escape just now, and dangled the key to the door in his hand, head-level.

“I'm not sure what to say, kittens, but the master expects you to be there when he returns home.” His dark eyes rested heavily upon Mercutio. The latter had finally found the courage to turn and face his captor. “You better make up for this, pet.”

“Master....” Was all Mercutio could say.

Perhaps courageously, or perhaps stupidly, Valentine stepped between the two men, forcing Tybalt to break his gaze from Mercutio and look at him instead. “Why are you home so early, master?” The boy whispered, and Tybalt frowned. Valentine always spoke in such a soft voice. Darn, it made his cock hard, as Mercutio could see. He wrapped his arms around his sibling and pulled him close, giving a warning glance that Valentine should shut up before he tempted their master even more.

“I had business tonight. Sampson took over while I conducted my business. I thought I'd announced that we would have that little chat later this evening, Mercutio? Had you forgotten?” That last part was directed at the older sibling again and Mercutio felt his cheeks go red. Had he forgotten?

“N-No, master, Tybalt.”

Tybalt smirked satisfied. “Really, I had not expected for you to be so daft. Now come on, the both of you, back to our room before I decide to tell anyone of your disobedience.” He waited for Valentine and Mercutio to pass meekly before he followed them. In an awkward silence the three ascended the stairs and made their way to Tybalt's room. Valentine and Mercutio were deep in thought. Tybalt was enjoying the dread he could feel coming from them and the victory of catching them before they could successfully get away.

Valentine glanced behind them several times. Where had Romeo gone off to? The Montague had been pushing Valentine for most of their way through the secret passage and then into the kitchen, but the boy couldn't remember having seen him enter the kitchen after that.

Similar worries were on Mercutio's mind. He hoped his friend would be okay. But right now, he also had his own hind to worry about. He prayed to whatever god might listen that Valentine would be okay, that Tybalt wouldn't take out his anger on the boy.

Upon arriving in their room, Tybalt ordered Valentine to get ready for bed and keep in the bathroom till he was called out. Mercutio waited for instructions. He expected shouting, whipping, torture, death. Whatever. He did not expect for Tybalt to eye him – what was that curious expression in the Capulet's eyes?- and then undress.

Tybalt let himself fall onto the bed with a sigh and then looked up at him, as if he expected something. He didn't press him, didn't comment on how he had found them, didn't even say the word escape though it was clear they had been trying to run away. That's when Mercutio's eye fell upon the crumpled note he'd thrown in the bin. It lay, paper smoothed, on the desk. So Tybalt had read the note and knew he was going to attempt an escape tonight? Then how come he wasn't... cruel?

“I'm sorry.” Mercutio suddenly blurted. He didn't even know why he said it. “I'm sorry, Tybalt, I just... I didn't want to leave you alone,” his words dwindled to nothing and he bit his cheek. What was he doing? “I just, I can't stand the thought of you hurting Valentine, of hurting us, any longer. We need to get away. We need to be free.”

  
“You don't need freedom.” Tybalt snarled at him. “Now undress.”

Afraid of any repercussions, Mercutio stripped down and waited in front of the bed. Tybalt's eyes roamed him approvingly but the man didn't give him permission to get on the bed or instructions what to do next, so he kept standing there in doubt.

“No,” Tybalt said after a moment of appreciation while his eyes roved over the boy, “you don't need freedom. You only need me.”

And that was all there needed to be said that night. Tybalt didn't refer to their disobedience. He claimed the boy, leaving marks over Mercutio's body – purple and blue spots, angry red bites, traces of nails. He was rough but not unkind and with a tired voice called for Valentine to come back into the room afterwards.

Valentine lay down on the ground. His eyes meeting the apologetic look in Mercutio's.

In silence they thought: _Tomorrow we'll try again_.

Then sleep claimed them.


	25. Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated two chapters at once, didn't want to leave you hanging there ;)

When morning arrived word of their escape still seemed to be taboo. Tybalt didn't speak of it, Mercutio wouldn't bring it up and Valentine wouldn't speak at all in presence of their master.

Something had changed though, and Mercutio couldn't blame the Capulet. Tybalt wouldn't leave him on his own the next day. Granted, he couldn't trust the boy not to make a second attempt at an escape. But the consequence was, in Mercutio's eyes, a little harsh.

Peter was to be constantly by his side, much to the chagrin of the servant.

Mercutio, however, didn't mind it as much as Peter wanted to believe he would. “I am imposing on your freedom!” The servant begrudgingly said.

“What freedom?” Mercutio looked around as if he was looking for it.

Peter's exasperated cry echoed through the house. “You're such a fool! You shouldn't enjoy that I'm stuck with you, watching your every step and even when you have to go to the bathroom.”

Ah, there was that, of course. Peter had been clearly instructed to watch him as he had to go. Apparently Tybalt feared Mercutio would attempt to climb out of the tiny window in his bathroom. As if!

The boy fluttered his lashes and held his hands underneath his chin. “But Peterrrrrrr,” He said in a sing-song voice, “I do love your company.”

In reality he was grateful for being stuck to the servant. It meant some safety from Lady Capulet.

“Don't think you can seduce me, boy. I'm unaffected by attentions of your kind.” Peter was flushed and Mercutio suddenly realised why Peter had always been so harsh to them. Peter liked men, although he tried very hard to hide it.

He sighed and stopped fooling around.

Well. For just one minute.

Teasing Peter was just too much fun, especially when he knew that the poor servant couldn't try anything with him. Tybalt would have him castrated if he tried, Mercutio was certain of it.

During lunchtime Peter escorted him to the kitchen where he had a little chat with the cook and managed to win two delicious looking platters of food. Valentine was preparing a chicken – why did they have so much feathers? - while watching his big brother munch on a nice piece of bread.

Valentine didn't look happy though. Peter ignored the smaller boy as he stuffed his mouth with the food, but Mercutio recognised the expression and halted. That long face made him think Valentine knew something. Perhaps something about their failed escape last night? This could be bad!

“What is it?” He asked gently, his hand reaching for Valentine's wrist. The boy looked as if he was about to cry.

“Benvolio.” Valentine's voice cracked. “He's been given away this morning.”

“What?” He could not have heard that right. It was not possible.

“Who took his place?” Peter eagerly asked, breaking the illusion of having heard wrong.

“Why would you even ask such a question!” Mercutio snapped, not able to control himself. “No one can replace Benvolio. No one!” They looked at him, eyes wide, he had been shouting. The cook pursed her lips and tusked, then shook her head and returned to her preparations.

“You'll laugh when I tell you who it is.” Peter continued.

But Valentine hissed at him. “Bite your tongue.”

It was a fair warning and for once the servant listened to it. He gave Valentine an odd look, as if he was wondering about the kid's behaviour, then seemed to remember something and shook his head.

“Not important anyhow.”

The silence that followed was worse then Peter's speech had been. Bitter thoughts of sadness and lost filled Mercutio. To think he had been standing outside of that door yesterday, that he had heard Benvolio plead and moan and being ravished, that he had the chance to get him out but that he had been too late. Why was it too late?

“Finish that.” Peter said as he pointed at Mercutio's food. The richly decorated plate had suddenly lost its appeal and Mercutio shoved it away. He wasn't hungry anymore. “I need to speak to the master of the house and you're coming with me.”

The servant sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Unfortunately you'll have to come with me.” He then turned to the cook and asked her to pass on a message to the Nurse. With that he gestured for Mercutio to follow.

Mercutio cast his sibling a last glance and pointed at the food. “You take it.” He said.

Valentine did his best to smile and softly acknowledged that yes, he would finish his lunch for him.

Peter might be smaller than Mercutio, but his tread was fast and Mercutio had to quicken his pace to keep up with him. When they halted in front of a chamber Peter turned to face him.

“Go get the Lord. Tell him I'll be in the drawing room.”

Mercutio raised a brow but Peter flashed him a toothy smile. “Don't worry, I have not forgotten. You won't be on your own in there.”

Dread filled him when he gazed at the large wooden doors. If Lord Capulet was there then so might be his wife. Could Peter be this cruel to intentionally leave him behind with the woman who wants to rape him?

He swallowed, a difficult feat, then knocked on the door. His knuckles hurt and he looked at them. Scratches of Tybalt's nails were visible. Had he scratched him there as well? God, the man really was more of a cat than a human. If Mercutio wasn't so scared for what was behind that door he might have laughed openly at how right he was calling Tybalt a King of Cats.

With a deep breath he pushed the door open and, not wishing to delay whatever fate lay inside, rushed into the room. He came face to face with Lord Capulet and froze.

Instantly, Mercutio's eyes turned to the floorboards and he muttered a brief apology.

“Ah, aren't you Tybalt's boy?” Lord Capulet said.

Tybalt's boy? The suggestion alone made him shiver. But Lord Capulet was right. He belonged to Tybalt now, perhaps more than he wanted to admit to himself.

“It's good you came. You left Peter outside?”

“Yes, master.”

“There was something he needed to tell me, wasn't there?” Lord Capulet kindly said, giving Mercutio silent permission to talk.

“Yes, master Capulet. He is waiting for you in the drawing room.” Apparently whatever was to be discussed needed to be done away from Mercutio's prying eyes and ears.

“Good, good.” Lord Capulet clapped his hands on his thighs as he got up from the chair. “I shall go to him.” He passed Mercutio on his way to the door but then hesitated in his step when he was next to him. Lord Capulet placed a large, warm hand on his shoulder and it took Mercutio a lot not to flinch.

“I heard Tybalt doesn't want you to be roaming about by yourself so I've arranged a little something. Oh slave?” He called out that last part, then turned to Mercutio with a smile on his face. “Now this boy here's also a pleasure slave. Just like you. I'm sure you will find plenty to talk about.”

With that said Lord Capulet turned to leave the room. As he closed the doors behind him, a figure stepped out from behind the curtains of the king-sized bed that stood in the middle of the room. The figure was an old friend.

“Romeo....It's you? What happened?” Mercutio rushed to his side. His arms were on Romeo's shoulders and Romeo smiled at the touch, then shook his head and the smile fell.

Mercutio gently shook the boy. “Why didn't you follow us? Last night?”

“I-I couldn't.” Romeo's reply was a stutter.

“How do you mean you couldn't? We lost you on our way to the kitchen. Val said you pushed him in and then...”

But Romeo interrupted. “Oh, dear friend of mine. You always try too hard for my sake.” It shut Mercutio up. The grip on Romeo's shoulders weakened. “Yes, I pushed Valentine after you for I saw how Val hesitated. I wanted you two to get out but understand this.... with half an eye and my hand gone, and with my legs as they are, do you really believe we would have stood a chance at getting away together?” He shook his head. “No. I didn't want to risk ruining your escape. After pushing Valentine in after you I made my way back to my room. I didn't want to be the reason you'd be held back.”

Mercutio let out a desperate sound. “Silly boy. You wouldn't hold us back. I'd even carry you if I had to. You don't actually think-”

“I do think a lot, thank you.” Romeo fiercely said. His functioning eye was fixed sternly upon him. “And I think that getting Valentine out of this environment is worth the price.” His voice turned into a lamenting whine then. “I am not to be saved any more, Mercutio. Look at me. I am mutilated. My body is battered. I even miss some important parts.” Then a light appeared in his good eye and he grabbed Mercutio by the shoulder with his good hand. “But Valentine can be saved. Valentine is still pure. It doesn't have to end badly for us all.”

“Just come with us.” Mercutio sounded tired as he said it but his voice was gentle. To go away and leave his friend to his fate. He couldn't.

But Romeo laughed as if he had just been telling a joke. “Me? Going away?” His laughter stopped and his gaze seemed to be focused on nothing. “I must admit it sounded tempting. To be free and live my own life.” Then his focus came back and was directed straight at his friend.

“But you know what, Mercutio? I think I have chosen my own life. Remember I vouched myself to Juliet? That I said it was true love? I don't see why it would be wrong for me to stay here with her.”

“To stay here? With her?” Apart from anger there was disbelief in Mercutio's voice for he couldn't comprehend what had made his friend say this. “She mistreats you. She doesn't even love you!”

“She,” Romeo shushed him, “might not love me like I love her but after last night's attempt I had a deep think. And I came to realise that even after all I've been through my heart still beats for her and her alone. Do I wish to abandon her?”

Mercutio had grown silent. His hands lay weakly upon Romeo's shoulders, not quite touching. And Romeo ran his good hand through Mercutio's hair soothingly while he smiled. “You see, I do love her. She wasn't the one who did this.” He held up his arm with the missing hand, but Mercutio barely registered this. “Badacci's men did this. Not even the Capulets had as much fun in tearing me apart. So how can I blame her for this?”

“Isn't she happy,” Mercutio breathed, “with her husband?”

Romeo laughed. “Her new husband? Oh, I can see that she is. She loves him very much. But you see, even when she is happy with him I can be happy to still be with her.” He looked affectionately at his friend. “No, Mercutio. I won't join you in another escape. But I will do what I can for you and for Valentine. Even if it is just to cause a distraction. But just leave me as I am. As it should be. Romeo and Juliet.”

The slight trembling of Mercutio's body was felt by Romeo's hand, and the boy drew him close.

“I don't understand.” Mercutio said, tears threatening his eyes. How could love be this strong and this twisted? And what exactly did it say about himself? Was it love he felt for Tybalt, or was it some kind of strange Stockholm Syndrome effect that made him believe his feelings were so? When Romeo spoke of staying here with Juliet, had he not imagined staying her for Tybalt?

“You give us hope.” Romeo murmured, his lips pressing against Mercutio's lightly-coloured hair. “You're the Prince of Slaves....”

“That is just a silly nickname Tybalt gave me when he first conquered me.”

“Well, aren't you?” Romeo argued, his lips still tasting the other boy's hair. “You could have been a prince, Mercutio. If your uncle still lived....”

“He's dead and he'll remain dead. The family name of Escalus isn't in possession of a title any more.”

“But you could escape.” Mercutio disliked Romeo's arguments. Where was he trying to get him? “Then you could come back. Some people will still want to follow you. Tell them who you are. That you are an Escalus. Tell them what the Capulet's have done to you and right the wrongs.”

Mercutio let his head hang. Was this the image his friend had of him? That Mercutio, as the surviving heir of the Escalus fortune, could bring an end to the Capulet's reign? That he could escape this prison only to find supporters and make him the new ruler of Verona? He sighed. “Oh, poor Romeo. Too much wrongness has happened for me to ever make it right.”

“Is Val...?”

“No, Romeo. Tybalt only punished me.” He smiled apologetically. “As if the marks on my body already didn't tell you.....”

Romeo looked down at him and then quickly looked away. Mercutio hadn't lied. His body was riddled with marks. A trace of hickeys was evidently seen on his collar, going from shoulder to shoulder. There was bruise underneath his eye, traces of nails scratching on his hands and arms – and on many more placed Romeo couldn't see.

When Romeo spoke again his voice was harsh and full of suppressed emotions. “You should get away and do as I say, Mercutio. Before Tybalt gets his hands on you again.”

Mercutio sighed and held his friend in an embrace. They stood there, at the centre of the room, hugging, when Lord Capulet returned. He raised a brow at the display while the boys quickly parted and then shook his head. Mercutio was told to follow Peter.

“Master Tybalt has taken the afternoon off. He'll be home for the night as well. I suggest you hurry and come along with me. There's something he needs to say.”

Mercutio followed Peter as the servant led the way.


	26. Valentine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I told my mother I had written this thing including everything we had to read in high-school (that which is called Literature in our country and which I thought was horrible), she asked me how many people died in the story. Damn. Well, I almost ticked all the boxes.

Darkness. Dread. Mercutio sat waiting in the parlour. He was kneading his hands until the skin had gone white and red, and he was chewing his lip nervously.

“I noticed something odd.” Tybalt’s words rung in his mind. “Your brother Valentine is quite a quiet one, isn’t he?”

“What if he is, master?” He hadn’t liked where this conversation was heading, not at all. Neither did he like the fact that Tybalt had brought him out of the safety of their room and into this reception room which could be visited by Lady Capulet at any given point of the day.

Why didn’t they meet in his room?

“He has this light voice. Often talks in a silent whisper. Not what I’m used of an Escalus.”

Just thinking of Tybalt’s words made him bite too hard on his lip. Blood trickling into his mouth, the taste deliciously stinging his tongue.

“I thought you’d said the Escalus name was dead, master.” His own voice, mocking.

“Ah yes, but you see,” Tybalt had been toying with his glove, so confident, so certain of himself, that it had actually hurt the boy when the man lifted his eyes and brought them upon him. “I am not going to ask for Valentine’s age again. I’ve accepted that his voice is as it is.”

An uncomfortable silence as Mercutio shifted nervously on the chair. Was Tybalt going to suggest what he thought he would?

“I noticed something. Valentine always has his wash at convenient times when I am not there to see him.”

“I told you he was shy, didn’t I?”

“Indeed.” Tybalt said. “But you see, what you didn’t tell me is what interests me the most. So much toilet paper your sibling has used during several days a month. And the sanitary towels of our Rosaline went missing.”

Mercutio didn’t need to ask what he was implying. All he wished to know was for how long Tybalt had known, and if there was some kind of spell – or anything- that he could do to make this undone.

Tybalt’s smug smile was imprinted on his brain as the Capulet spoke. “How hard you must have tried to keep your sibling safe and to keep your secret covered.”

He didn’t need to try any more. He didn’t need to keep up the pretence. “You can’t touch her”

“Oh, can I not?” _Of course he could._ But Mercutio wished to deny the voices in his head that warned him. _Too late_ , they said, _you should have escaped yesterday_.

“Tybalt, No!”

“I am your master, boy, don’t forget.” Peter was by his side, restraining him while Tybalt ordered for the boy to be kept in place. “Keep him here till I call for you.”

His struggle only got him off the chair and with Peter’s arms still locked around him, Mercutio sank to his knees. That was minutes ago, and the conversation kept repeating inside his head, playing over and over in front of his eyes till it made his heart hurt.

**Val, be safe. Run.**

Yet in the kitchen his sibling seemed unaware of the danger walking her way. “Cook, could you leave us alone for a while.”

Valentine froze. Her hands still in the water as she’d been washing the dishes. The order by Tybalt had been a low ominous demand, promising her nothing good was about to come. He had never sent the cook away and as she turned to face him she could see they were alone and she had made a big mistake by looking him in the eyes.

“It’s about time I should stop neglecting you, my beauty.”

The dark sparkle in Tybalt’s eyes said it all. “A boy. How foolish of you to believe you could hide yourself.”

He came closer and she, feeling trapped, brought her hands out of the dishwater and spattered it at him, only achieving that he had to blink his eyes. Valentine backed against the wall and desperately looked around for a way out. He was looming over her within an instant, his breath hot in her neck. “If you cooperate things will be much more fun for both you and I.” The Capulet said calmly while he removed his leather glove. “Do you think you can do that?”

He whispered in her ear, his hair tickling her skin as he bent forth and his breath brushed past her cheek. “But think of how much pain it can be if it’s forced.”

She closed her eyes, remembering all the times she’d seen her brother cry out in pain, his body infiltrated by big cocks, sometimes two at the same time when the guards took their share of him. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and bit her lip, shaking her head.

“I can be gentle.” Tybalt whispered, his fingers tracing the line of her lips and pausing at her biting teeth to tap lightly against them. She gasped and he pushed his fingers inside of her mouth, having her suck his thumb.

She did her best to move her head and succeeded in turning it away. The action made his fingers slip out from between her lips and she glared dangerously at him. “I  _know_ you’re not gentle.” 

This angered Tybalt.

He grabbed her roughly and pushed her over the sink. With the way they were standing she was defenceless. Him with his hand on her neck forcing her in an uncomfortable angle over the edge of the sink, their crotches touching so she could feel his clad erection pressing against her.

With a groan he let go of her. “Not like this.” He said. “Your brother should be here to witness this. After all, you watched him. It’ll only be fair. ”


	27. Siblings

When Mercutio was brought into the room by Peter he was already wearing chains. One around his neck leading to two around his wrists. Tybalt moved over to him in a swift motion and placed a gag ball in his mouth, effectively shutting the boy up as he protested about what was happening. Only muffled sounds escaped the Escalus now and Tybalt looked down at him satisfied.

“Tie him to that chair, Peter, and then leave.”

He sat helpless on the chair. Struggling against his bounds didn't do much for him for Peter had tied him way too tight. He could do nothing more but look at the bed, in front of which he was positioned on the chair. Fear was visible in his eyes when he saw his master, hardly dressed, and then behind him the girl who lay tied to the bed and his eyes widened as he realized what was going to happen. His greatest fear had become reality.

“Yes, look at her.” Tybalt said, his coat with the fur borders the only thing covering his naked body. He gestured at Valentine on the bed. The girl had her eyes squeezed shut and her cheeks were red of embarrassment.

“Please, do look at your naked _sister_ , Mercutio. ”

And Mercutio did. He did look at her. The girl he had so fiercely tried to protect. The girl he lied for, had given himself for body and soul, the little temptress with the long red hair and lively green eyes. She now lay trembling on the bed in front of him. Every inch of her exposed.

Tybalt's expression soured. “How long did you think you could fool me, Mercutio?” He shouted, and Mercutio flinched. The boy turned his gaze away, refusing to look at his sibling for any longer, but his head was forced up when Tybalt dug his fingers into his scalp and roughly raised his head by his orange curls.

“I have enough of your games.” He hissed. “This is a dangerous world for you to live in, precious, and especially pretty girls like your sister are in danger. Did you think it wise not to tell me? For me to not know? For her to be at risk of being taken by whichever man thinks she's fancy?” His voice grew softer there as he patted Mercutio's cheek. “No, no, no.”

He let go of Mercutio and gracefully swept back to the bed to sit on the edge, the bed dipping from his weight. “I can see what you think, pet.”

Tybalt ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You think you were so good at protecting her. Protecting her virtue. In a way I should thank you.”

As he leant forward to stroke Valentine's cheek he whispered, the words clearly meant for Mercutio. “You’ve given me many things, pretty boy. And now you’re even giving me the chance of reproducing.”

Valentine’s eyes opened and grew wide at this. She started to struggle again but Tybalt kept her pressed to the blankets. “No!” As soon as she had said that word she bit her lip and turned her head the other way. Tybalt's hand was pressing against her bosom, keeping her flat to the bed, humiliating her in front of her brother as she tried to struggle against her bonds.

Mercutio let out a loud muffled yell.

“A family.” Tybalt continued as he ignored the protests of either sibling. “Which is what I've always wanted.”

The girl on the bed stilled, paralysed with fear.

“Oh yes. I will not deny I've fancied the thought of becoming a father before.” Tybalt drawled, his finger tracing Valentine's skin while he looked at the girl almost dotingly. “But then again, I had to fall for a boy who cannot bear me an heir and unfortunately my cousin chose another. I feared my chances were all gone. But now...”

His hand toyed with Valentine's hair. The muffled screams of Mercutio resonated throughout the room, then died down when he noticed they were in vain.

Tybalt didn't need another word. He leant over valentine, his breath ghosting her skin, and only paused to throw Mercutio a glance from behind the curtain of his raven-dark hair. His hair then obscured his face, hiding it from Mercutio's view, as he climbed on top of his sister, on top of the red-haired girl who lay defenceless on the bed. She was struggling but her hands had been tied to the bedpost and Tybalt was effectively covering her body with his own. The coat falling open dangerously to reveal his hard shaft, the veins on his cock pulsing with delight.

He positioned himself in complete silence. While Valentine turned her head away, Mercutio held his breath, praying in silence that this scene would be interrupted and that someone, anyone, would come to save his sister from this fate. Even Peter. Even Lady Capulet.

_Just let this end, please._

But then Tybalt moved. With one thrust he was inside and Valentine’s eyes rolled back in their sockets. She arched her back and curved her spine whilst her head pushed into the pillow. Her lips parted in a speechless gasp.

Tybalt leant forth to lick a stripe down her neck and over her breasts. He halted at her right nipple, gently sucking on it before shifting his focus to the nipple on her left breast. She gasped, her body still trembling underneath him. Her body was trying to push him out. It was actually a marvellous feeling and Tybalt couldn't resist but look her in the eyes. To see her look back in such pain.... No, it wasn’t what he wanted to see and he quickly glanced away. Eventually she would enjoy it. She had to.

To him it was already so enjoyable. How could he not love brother and sister both? Equally?

He pressed his lips into a determined thin line and pushed into her again, though he was buried to the hilt. Her body moved with the motion but her back relaxed a bit more. He then withdrew, pulling out till only the tip of the head was still inside of her, then in one swift slam he was fully inside again. She gasped and her body arched again.

“Be quiet, princess.” Tybalt hissed at her, pushing her chest which had risen when she had arched her back because of his thrust down to the pillows with his hand. “In a few days’ time you’ll be used to your new position under me and you’ll be thanking me after every fuck for receiving my gift. Understood?”

Valentine wisely kept her mouth shut. Her eyes were squeezed tight, her breathing rapid and unsteady as Tybalt started to thrust into her in an unsteady rhythm. “Mercutio, watch us.” He demanded, effectively forcing the boy on the chair to open his eyes and watch the ordeal in front of him. To see the man who had ravished him so often now take his sibling was sickening, weird, and shamefully arousing. He looked away again.

“Watch.” Tybalt demanded more forceful this time. He pushed Valentine's leg up a little higher, granting him more access into her delicious tight depth. The new position gave Mercutio a better view as the man who owned him thrust deep inside of his sister.

A pathetic whine escaped Mercutio as he wished he could deny that this wasn't arousing to him.

This wrong display of affection. Was it affection even? Wasn't it just pure lust?

Tybalt was thrusting firmly, feeling how Valentine's walls were clamping down hard on him, and he groaned. His climax was approaching.

“Sweet girl.” He breathed. “So tight.”

He grunted, thrusting even faster. The bed was creaking under their weight, their movements moving the bed against the wall with each relentless thrust. “So good.” Tybalt moaned again.

He threw his head back with a hiss, his teeth gnashed, his eyes squeezed shut, as he came inside of the girl. He pushed his cock in to the limit, pressing the head against her cervix in one final blow, and groaned when he felt his semen being shot into her womb.

Then he leant forward again and rested his forehead against the girl's shoulder. She was trying to catch her breath like he was trying to catch his own.

They were panting. Two naked bodies covered in sweat.

Tybalt was the first to move, his head thrown backwards to get his long raven-hair out of his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing. He moved up from the bed and tugged at the rumpled covers to straighten them.

After casting a glance at Mercutio, whose tears were visible as they glistened in the weak light of the room, he tugged at Valentine's bonds and deftly started to untie her. He rubbed her sore wrists and her ankles and helped her sit up – some of the fluids slowly trickling down her inner leg which he wiped away with his handkerchief. He then helped her off the bed, though she was trembling and stood unsteady.

Tybalt didn't look at Mercutio as he spoke to him.

“I believe I should thank you for bringing her to me. And for guarding her virtue.”

He took his knife from the belt of his discarded trousers and raised it high.

Mercutio panicked and Valentine screamed as he raised the knife above his head. But now he approached the bed. His arm swung down and the sound of fabric tearing could be heard as Tybalt cut out the bloodied spot of the bed-covers. He then brought it to his nose and took a deep breath before clutching the piece of fabric to his chest.

  
“This is my trophy.” He told the two matter-of-factly.

Before he turned to leave the two to place his trophy away somewhere safe, he knelt down in front of Mercutio and gently brought the cloth to the boy’s cheek, smearing a trace of blood onto the white skin of his cheek.

“Shush,” Tybalt said, his voice almost loving, “I didn't forget you, pretty.”

The boy was still sobbing though. Mercutio's hard-on was visible and Tybalt experimentally gave the bulge a squeeze, earning himself a muffled gasp from the boy.

“Don’t cry.” Tybalt said, voice still as gentle as could be. “Since you're both so special to me I won't leave you out of this. Next time you get to share your sister, promise.”

He rose from his knees while Mercutio's eyes followed him. It was a death glare if there ever existed one. The look intrigued the Capulet who removed the gag from Mercutio's mouth while he continued speaking. “We can do a double penetration. I do think you know what that is, don’t you? And we can both pump your sister full with our babies. How would you like that, pet?”

“You're disgusting.” Mercutio said, his voice coming out croaked and sad.

These words earned him a hard slap. His cheek stung and a red hand-print was forming where Tybalt had hit him. His master unlocked the manacles that had trapped the boy to the chair before he exited the room. He had held the torn piece of cloth firmly in his gloved hand. As if it was a treasure, Mercutio thought.

Valentine was the first to move. She took an awkward step forth and then hissed.

The sound triggered her sibling into moving. Mercutio slid off the chair and held his head in his hands. Tears were falling freely now as he cried over his sister's loss of virtue.

She, however, walked over to him. Her gait awkward, she moved with a slight limp, and knelt down next to him to wrap an arm over his shoulder.

“I could not protect you.” Mercutio's choked voice sounded between the sobs. “I did not protect you.”

“You did.” She assured him, biting back her own tears. “You did protect me, brother.”

Valentine drew him closer to her. “You did it wonderfully well.”

_We almost got away._ The unspoken words sounded through the room. If their escape had worked they had gotten out unscathed, unharmed, with Valentine never having known the horrors Mercutio had already been acquainted with. 

But as she cradled her brother's head in her arms and shushed him gently all he could do was stare in front of him and mutter two words over and over again.

“I failed.”


	28. New escape plan

“We have to come up with something.” As usual it was Valentine who said it. Mercutio honestly didn't know how his sister was coping so well after having been raped just over an hour ago.

They both were seated on the edge of the freshly made bed – Mercutio had done that – cradling each other in their arms and holding each other close.

A low choked sob escaped the older of the two. His throat felt hoarse after all the crying he'd done and at this moment he felt more scared, more angry and furious than ever. He was mad at himself. Angry for failing to protect his sibling, angry for being there to see it happen, angry for feeling sexually attracted to her. God, he hated himself so much right now.

Yet she didn't seem to be as bothered by all of it as she should be. Her lips were pressed in a tight line but when she noticed Mercutio was looking at her she flashed him a warm smile. Not a forced one but a genuine smile. How could she smile so beautifully after what Tybalt had done to them?

“You worry, bro.” She said and gently squeezed him even closer to her. “I worry too. Which is why we have to get away from this place. You might think our escape is too late, that we only had that one chance in hindsight and that we failed. But we better get out now than wait and have Tybalt do more to us than we might think possible.”

Mercutio mumbled under his breath. “I'm sure he'll do more to us than we think possible. He threatened with a threesome. Val, you don't think – I mean, it's not like I could-”

When Valentine didn't speak but kept watching him with big curious eyes Mercutio nearly choked on his words and squeezed his eyes shut in shame. “It might not be too late for us to escape from here but it is too late to escape unscathed. Not just our bodies, but our minds. Val, I'm not a good brother anymore. I- I like what Tybalt is doing to me.” Suddenly he opened his eyes at his own confession, the words ringing true in his ears. “And I like the thought of what he will have me do to you.”

He buried his face in his hands and started to tremble. The tears wouldn't come, not any more, for he had spilled them all for the day. But the emotions shook his body all the same.

“You should hate me, Val. Hate me. Hate me. Hate me.”

There was a short moment in which all he could hear was his sister's hesitation before she placed her chin on his shoulder. Their embrace didn't end. He was glad she had put on one of Tybalt's oversized shirts so that she wasn't bare anymore – and in truth it had been him who had thrown the shirt to her to give her back some decency and to stop the wicked lustful thoughts that plagued his mind.

“Mercutio,” Damn, why was her voice so soft and why did it sound so sensible? “Don't beat yourself up about it. The situation made us like this. Twisted.”

Mercutio opened his eyes in shock. What was his sibling saying?

“Don't you think I hadn't wicked thoughts whenever I saw those men on you? What do you think I thought when they made us kiss? Don't you think I was affected all those times watching you and Tybalt on the bed while I was supposed to be asleep on the floor.” She shook her head, her long red hair danced freely around her small frame. “No. If you are to be hated then I am to be hated even more. I secretly wished that Tybalt would find out one day. I secretly wished he would let me join you in the bed.”

“Val...” What was that sound? Mercutio's world shattering? How could his sister think like this?

“No, Mercutio,” she sounded stern now while her hand slipped down his shoulders to grip his hands, “I realise what's happening is sick. That it's wrong. And that's why we will get away from this unhealthy environment. But after we get out, please, don't cast me away. Don't flee from me in fear of our own feelings. We can be platonic, we can try, we can be like brother and sister again and forget all this that has happened. And if we fail at that we can help each other accept that we are screwed up. But don't leave me brother, and don't be scared to tell me the truth. After all, I've always been honest to you too.”

Mercutio took a moment to settle his thoughts. His own sister aroused by seeing him in bed with Tybalt? It was unsettling. Yet again he had felt his manhood stir by just being around her. Could they go back to how it was?

He sniffed and brought his wrist to wipe his eye. There were no tears but there was the feeling of crying and it was enough. Just before he could speak the door to the chamber was opened and in came Tybalt.

He looked down at his two pets with a crooked smile, effectively sending shivers down Mercutio's spine. His sister, however, didn't seem to shrink under his eyes and rather sat up straight when she saw him enter.

“Did you put your price away, master? Is it somewhere safe?” Oh, her words contained venom as she spoke them through gritted teeth.

It earned her a chuckle from the lanky man, who then sat down on the edge of the bed next to Mercutio and wrapped a long arm around the boy's shoulder. Mercutio hissed but that was his only protest.

“I'm glad that the secret is out, dear Valentine. I couldn't be Mercutio's first but it is delicious to know I took an Escalus for the first time all the same. How are you faring? Does it still hurt between your legs? My aunt has a wonderful salve for it-”

“I don't want your aunt's salve.” Valentine rubbed her temples and tried to calm down. “Master.” Ah, the sweetness returned to her voice. She had never been good at sounding hateful or angry. Mercutio had assumed it was a quality she had inherited from their mother. Valentine would never have made a good ruler because she couldn't sound stern. If she tried she still sounded like a weak little kitten mewling. “I'll just take the pain how it is, if you please.”

Tybalt's crooked smile had faded and there was a shimmer of concern in his eye. Mercutio saw this, felt the man's arm round him slacken before tightening and took the chance to pounce his predator with words.

“Tybalt, you don't like hurting us like this, do you? You actually like us a lot, don't you?”

Tybalt's eyes turned to the boy and a frown came onto his face. “Who gave you such illusions for thoughts, pet? On the contrary, I like hurting you-”

“In sex.” Mercutio quickly finished and as he said it he could see how it enraged the Capulet. Tybalt's hands formed to fists and his jaw chiselled. “You like to dominate us because it's the only way you think you can get what you want. Well, newsflash, _master,_ we happen to be able to love you without being forced to do so.”

“Love.” Tybalt spat. His eyes switched to Valentine who was biting her lip. Her own eyes directed to the floor. “You start to sound more and more like your sister, Cutio.”

Mercutio flinched. “It becomes harder and harder to love you when all you do is hurt us.”

Tybalt's eyes went wide, a spark of craziness visible in them as rage took over. “Why should I wish for your love when your obedience is all I require? You're but slaves!”

“Obedience wasn't enough for you before.” It was Valentine's soft voice who reminded him. When he gazed at her he saw she was still staring at the floor in front of her. Yet she was right. When he finally got Mercutio to be obedient to him he noticed that it wasn't what he wanted at all. He even demanded for Mercutio to talk back to him again, to be the mischievous joker of a boy he had been before his imprisonment. And had he not demanded the boy to pretend to love him? Had that pretend love not been what had satisfied him the most?

His head hurt and Tybalt used his hands to massage his temples. He knew that Valentine was speaking the truth and that he was stubbornly trying to keep his power over the two. He knew he craved nothing more but to have Mercutio's warm flesh against him in the bed, willingly. To have the boy crawl over him with that mischievous spark in his eyes, smirking down at him before whispering what he would do to him, before they lost themselves in a kiss full of love. But they could never be that way, could they?

A hoarse yell escaped him and all he could hear was Mercutio shout to Valentine “wood, quickly!”

He felt the girl put the wood between his teeth, heard her sigh and felt his heart break. But then his world blackened and Mercutio and Valentine were left kneeling next to his body, breathing heavily. They had to pin his arms down so he couldn't move around too much. During his epileptic attack he had slipped off the bed and had fallen on the floor, limbs flying around uncontrollably. The siblings knew it would be impossible for them to move the bed, and moving Tybalt wasn't an option either. So as to protect him from hurting himself they had both jumped on top of him till the attack was over and he fell limp underneath their hands.

Mercutio was the first to move. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “I think I hit home.”

Valentine looked up at him. “Tybalt doesn't know how to handle people. He isn't used to have people love him, show him real affection, is he?”

The smile she received form her brother was a pained one. “I say so. I think you were right all along, Val. It might just be that our Tybalt here has a kinder personality that just hasn't come out yet. He might be craving affection, simple attention, and not know how to receive it.” Mercutio's expression hardened. “But it will not change matters. Now that he is out we will have a chance to escape.”

Valentine looked up at him. She was cradling Tybalt's head on her lap. Her hands covered the man's ears. It was an affectionate sight, seemingly with her protecting Tybalt from their voices and thinking of his well-being and the pain he must have in his head. In truth all that made her do this to the man who had abused her over an hour ago was the knowledge that though he might not react physically, he might still be able to hear them. And this was a plan of escape they were discussing.

“What about Romeo?” She asked.

Mercutio's lips formed a thin line. “Romeo's on his own. He cannot be saved by us. We shall leave at once. Come on, let's put him on the bed.”


	29. Much too easy

The sun was up earlier these days, but the weather still had a mind of its own. One day it’d be pouring, the next it’d be agreeable. Two months had passed since their failed escape. Valentine sat on the bed, staring begrudgingly in front of her. She was now ordered to wear a dress as instructed by their master, and today’s dress was red like blood. She pressed a hand to her abdomen and winced.

They should have escaped two months ago. Instead, they were still stuck in the Capulet’s den, locked in Tybalt’s room where Lord and Lady Capulet couldn’t get to them, to be used for anything that would give Tybalt pleasure. Bed slaves. Ordinary love slaves.

Valentine closed her eyes. They should have gotten out when Benvolio had still been here, but Tybalt had known. He’d caught them. They had a chance the next day when Tybalt blacked out but they hadn’t made it far from his room. Peter was on the look-out for them. The servants tackled them down, Lord and Lady Capulet came to see what the fuss was about and now knew that Valentine was in fact a girl – much to Lady Capulet’s chagrin.

For two weeks after they’d been locked away with shackles round their wrists and legs. The collars to their necks had been attached to the wall of Tybalt’s room. And Tybalt seemed insensitive to their words, ignoring their pleads about love and friendship, and stubbornly took his pleasure from them while he ensured they would not escape from his side again.

He also made good on his promise.

Mercutio had stopped hating himself. It wasn’t worth it. His sister was gorgeous, whether it was Tybalt’s cock or his cock she sat on. They were stuck. They were defiled. They were made of sin.

He watched her and then she finally looked up at him. “What is it you are thinking?” She asked.

He cracked a smile. “Just that you’re beautiful. And how fucked up we are.”

She laughed. It sounded good.

Was this what their world had become? A fragmented version of the one they’d been born in? Now all the sentences inside his head were short and statements. All his thoughts were focused upon Tybalt and his sister and he realised that by now they meant the world to him. It wasn't just Valentine anymore. Tybalt was included. And his thoughts were no longer pure. Which was why…..

“We need to leave as soon as we see a chance.”

Valentine agreed eagerly with a nod of the head and a hand combing through her hair. “You keep saying that and then afterwards you say that you are sorry for what’s happened to me. You never say ‘us’. Am I seriously still worth more in your mind than yourself? Because to me you’re worth a lot and I‘m not attempting an escape without you. Which is what I keep saying as an answer each time you ask.”

Her words earned her an annoyed groan from her brother. Mercutio pushed himself up from the chair at the desk and leant over it as if seeking for something among the papers.

“You know what you mean to me.”

Certain things were never going to change. Except perhaps the reason for their wish to escape. It wasn't to keep Valentine out of enemy hands anymore or to protect her virtue.

“Val, I’m serious. We need to get out of here before the baby arrives.”

Plus, there was the imminent fear for being attached to Tybalt too much. The man had crawled under Mercutio's skin and he sometimes worried the same was happening to Valentine. She didn't seem to dare object to anything their master said, gave in way too easy when the Capulet wanted something of her and was quite calm afterwards. As if she had accepted their fate.

“Then we have approximately seven months to get away.” She said deftly and pointedly. “We must be careful, bro, one more misstep and who knows what will happen to us? We know Lady Capulet is bitter that she still hasn't had the opportunity to touch you. Plus she's angry that I now share Tybalt's bed. If she finds out I am carrying what could be his child she will take any chance given to her to get rid of it,” she hesitated, “and of me. She wouldn't want to have the household defiled by a bastard.”

While Valentine looked down at her hands and considered the many possible ways Lady Capulet would torture and harm her, Mercutio pushed himself away from the desk and came to sit beside her. He wrapped an arm round her shoulder.

“All I am saying is that we can't be rash.” She continued. “We need to escape and we need to escape good this time. Failure is not an option.”

Mercutio silently agreed.

“And in the meantime we will not tell Tybalt what we know.” Which was that Valentine's period had been out ever since he laid hands on her and that she had been throwing up at random times during the day.

“We won't. Anyway, I've thought this through.” Mercutio whispered while he gently rocked his sister in his arms. “In the weekends they've stopped working on the garden. I say when we go we'll surprise everyone by doing something they won't suspect.”

She looked at him. “And what would that be?”

Mercutio laughed airily. “Oh, an ingenious surprise, I'm sure, as I came up with it.”

A desperate plan was more of a fitting description. A knock on the door had them jump slightly and Mercutio called who it was.

“Rosaline, will you let me in?” The boy made his way over to the door and opened it to reveal the Capulet. She belonged to a limited number of people who were allowed to see and speak to Mercutio and Valentine, apart from Peter, the cook, Romeo and two of the maids. Mercutio hadn't known that his sibling had befriended the Capulet, Tybalt's cousin, when she still worked in the kitchen. It was through Rosaline that Valentine had received sanitary pads which helped her from bleeding through her trousers during that time of the month and helped her to keep up the pretence that she was a boy when it was still needed.

“Come in, mistress.” Mercutio bowed elegantly, a theatrical show he put up especially for the Capulet girl. He couldn't help but grin at her after she was in and he had closed the door. The thought came to him that if things had gone different, if he hadn't been made a slave and had still been free to roam Verona, he would probably have tried to get underneath Rosaline's skirt. She was a pretty thing to see but very timid. One would not think her to be a Capulet at all.

As he stood at the side of the door, slouching casually against the wall, he watched the two girls interact. They did their usual greeting, a quick kiss on the cheek and a hug. Rosaline was good to his sister and they owed her. A lot.

Then a thought hit him. “Will you help us escape?”

Ingenious. Ever since he had found out that Valentine was on friendly terms with her he started considering ways to ask her help. She froze and turned away from his sister. Her dark eyes bore into him and for a moment he feared she would tell about this to Lord and Lady Capulet. The way her lips were pressed in a thin line predicted nothing good.

“Excuse me?” She asked.

And Mercutio needed to reconsider. But no, reality wasn't as gorgeous as that. “Will you help us escape?” He asked again. Somehow no other words came and no excuse was formed. Just the same plain and honest request.

Valentine looked at him in disbelief. Yet Rosaline's thin lips twitched slightly.

“A slave asking such a bold question of one who isn't even his master. You think I will let you, belongings of my cousin, get out of his hands?” She let out a huff. “I think I should not do that. My cousin is a mean man, that is true. He has foul moods. He is dangerous with a blade. He has the falling sickness. His hands are large and his grip is firm. His gaze is sharp, his sins deadly. Yet to take away what gives him comfort and what he desires the most? That'd make me an even crueller woman.”

Mercutio hung his head, relieved that Rosaline took her time to lecture him rather than storm out of the room to give them away. She could easily have him punished for such impudence. She could have him punished or worse.

“Then will you let us escape?” This time it was Valentine who asked, a frown deeply upon her face and eyes filled with worry.

Rosaline turned to her and unfolded her arms.

“Sure,” she said, her lips curling agreeably into a gentle smile, “in fact, I've already thought of a plan to get you safely on your way.”


	30. Rain

_Sure,_ she had said,  _I have a plan._ Mercutio stared out of the window and into the darkness outside. It should be daylight by now, but instead of brightness the weather was gruesome and rain was pouring down without mercy. Clouds filled the sky, swirling round themselves until the sky was as dark as the night. It wouldn't take much for thunder to pay a visit, Mercutio thought ruefully. But the temperature hadn't been high enough for those specific clouds to form. 

Rosaline appeared beside him. She was wearing a dark cloak and a cheeky smile on her face, as if she was proud of what she was doing. The boy had trouble understanding her. This was the day they would all betray Tybalt: master and owner but also cousin and friend. How could she take delight in betraying him when she had said before that she didn't wish to bring him such harm? Was her plan faulty? Or was it all a trap?

With little trust he took the backpack from her which contained food supplies and little extra wear, and then after nodding at her he turned to Valentine. She had just come up beside him and took the cloak from Rosaline, wrapping it around her as she smiled at Rosaline like friends would.

“This is as far as I go. You know what to do.” The Capulet pushed against the window, opening it, and gesturing for the two slaves to get through.

They were in the green drawing room – the one used mainly by Lord Capulet to receive guests in. To use this room was tricky. Anyone could see them enter it and they had no chores that would send them there. There was no reason for Mercutio and his sister to be there.

But Rosaline had assured them it was the best way out.

She led them silently past the Capulets who sat gathered in the red room: a room adjacent to the green and mostly used by Lady Capulet. Which was another reason for Mercutio to doubt Rosaline’s true intent with her plan. All the family was at home. Lady Capulet had gathered them to give them new instructions about a possible new ally – some visitors they were to receive soon. Tybalt was in there.

A shiver ran down Mercutio’s spine as he approached the window. To set foot out there meant betraying the person who kept him alive. It meant that he would actually try to run away. And it also meant that if they got caught by the group of Capulet’s guarding the garden or the ones patrolling the city….. they’d probably be killed. The intent of them to escape was very obvious this time for Rosaline had helped to remove their collars. There was no sign on them carrying Tybalt's name. His cousin had access to any chamber in the house and had 'borrowed' the keys. Now their shackles and the the collars lay on Tybalt's bed, as if on display, where Rosaline had put them. But Mercutio thought she would out them away somewhere out of sight for them.

He didn’t fear Tybalt’s wrath as much as Lady Capulet’s. It was clear the woman was bitter about the both of them and held the greatest power in this household. With a sigh Mercutio realised that even Tybalt could not stand up against her. Had she made him the way he was? Ruthless? Thinking love had to be forced instead of earned?

With a blink of the eye Valentine was outside. She held out a hand to him. “Let’s go, brother.” Trembling he took her hand, the relief of escaping making place for fear of leaving Tybalt behind in the den of Capulets. With a last glance over his shoulder he could see how Rosaline had closed the window behind them and nodded approvingly, as if the movement of her head was a blessing alone.

They went down the route Rosaline had told them to. As someone who could move freely she had become acquainted with all the patrolling routes of her family and she knew where the dangers lay. The path she had described to them was free, and they made it to the gates of the garden without encountering any of the Capulet guards. Following Rosaline’s route, they climbed the side of the wall where bricks had started to crumble down – Mercutio had been responsible for that. He loved climbing these walls back when the house still belonged to his uncle. Oh, the many times he and Romeo had gone over them….

He didn’t even wish to look behind. He feared for what he might see there. Would Romeo be standing by the window, looking outside, gazing helplessly at the freedom he couldn't reach while the woman he loved sat with her family, all of them discussing how to gain more power. Would Tybalt be in that same room, oblivious to the fact that the two people he trusted to be there to fulfil his needs had gone?

The rain kept pouring down and they were already soaked to the bone as they made their way out of the garden. Mercutio quickly wrapped an arm around his sister's waist, pulling her close in an attempt to keep her warm. They were both shivering. The drops of rain trickled down their noses and past their lips. Droplets obscured their sight as they clung to their lashes.

They continued their way as Rosaline had instructed. Mud clung to their boots as they went down the winding road, and then, when they entered the meadow as their route took them off the road for a while, their boots failed to protect them from any more mud and rain. Their feet grew cold but their will was hard. All it took for Mercutio to be convinced that they were doing the right thing was a quick look at his sister. And Valentine would flash him a smile every now and then.

“Can you smell it?” She asked at one point, when cold and shivering they made their way through the forest that surrounded the city. “Freedom.”

Mercutio took a deep breath but didn't stop walking. He could smell the trees, the pines, the wetness of the rain. He could pick up more scents than he had during their time imprisoned in the Capulet lair and it was heavenly.

Only once during their walk through the forest when a group of Capulet men headed their way – luckily given away by their loud speech as they complained about the awful weather. Escaping during the day was a good thing, Mercutio mused, for it would not be expected. And escaping during such foul weather was working in their advantage because many people stayed off the road. Also, they became like silhouettes. The heavy rain and darkness of the sky obscured their forms from anyone who might glimpse them wandering in the distance. They felt anonymous, on the verge of a new life, shedding their old identities and sins and heading towards a brighter future – as Valentine loved to remind Mercutio.

And that future was within reach.

“How much further?” Valentine whimpered. “I am _so_ cold.” Her teeth chattered and Mercutio frowned. He too was trembling like a leave in the wind. Their clothes gave them little comfort, soaked as they were, and they had little to give them warmth. 

“According to Rosaline we should get see the next village once the forest stops. There's another meadow we can walk through. But she said not to rest until we can't walk any further.”

As he said it, Mercutio realised that his sister wouldn't tell him when she had reached that point. Her feet were like ice, moving them was difficult. He knew how it felt for his own feet were like ice cubes too. Should they rest? Try to get dry? Should they-?

A figure stood in front of them. The rain showing them only the contours of a dark shape. They noticed too late, but Valentine managed to come to a halt before colliding. Mercutio, being distracted by his thoughts, bumped up against a drenched coat of soft fur. His breath hitched in his throat and afraid for what he would find, he had to force himself to look up and lock eyes with the person he had just walked into. He could tell who it was just by the hitched breath of Valentine.

Tybalt.

The Capulet stared down at him with dark eyes. The hurt in them was visible and strong and seeing it felt like a knife slashing through Mercutio. He had upset his master.

_No._ No. He did not wear the collar anymore. His hands formed fists, holding the fur of Tybalt's coat as tight as his frozen hands could while he gnashed his teeth. This wasn't happening. They were supposed to be free. What had gone wrong? Had Rosaline betrayed them?

“You ignorant kids.” Tybalt snarled and Valentine lowered her gaze. Her hair fell round her face in wet tangles as she stared at her feet stuck in the mud. Tybalt's leather-clad hand grabbed Mercutio's arm, forcing the boy to let go off his coat, and then moved him in front of him. Tybalt pushed Mercutio into the direction he and Valentine had been walking in. “You ignorant fools.”

With the Capulet pushing Mercutio roughly forth in front of him, Valentine had no other choice but to follow. They soon reached the nearest village and were ordered by Tybalt to get into the first tavern they encountered. After being pushed in front of the fireplace, Tybalt sat on a chair between the two and wrung out his shirt.

“It is obvious that I am not pleased.” He said, his voice stern and his expression harsh. “I am extremely angry at this trick you played on me.”

The Capulet slouched back into his chair, closed his eyes and with a painful sigh started to massage his temples. For a moment Valentine and Mercutio were on the edge of their seats, thinking that Tybalt could get into one of his nasty attacks again. When Tybalt didn't fall to the ground or start to spasm the siblings locked eyes and found that they were both holding a piece of wood in their hands. In such a short time they had gotten accustomed to such a caring little habit.

“But first we need to warm up.” Tybalt muttered, unaware of how brother and sister had been preparing to take care of him if he were to fall ill again. The man opened his eyes and looked from one sibling to the other. “To go out in such foul weather. Are you two CRAZY?”

Oh yes, he shouted and others present in the tavern looked up at the display, but none commented. “YOU,” Tybalt continued in a raised voice, “going out there, in the bloody pouring rain, with temperatures near to zero degrees, dressed like that? And you think that wise?”

His hands reached for Mercutio and Valentine's wrists, squeezing their skin tightly. “And you think that's a wise thing to do in your condition?” His eyes pierced Valentine's, who quickly looked away, baffled that Tybalt had known all along.

He then looked accusingly at Mercutio. “And you. You should have known better.”

Mercutio looked down at Tybalt's hand squeezing his wrist. He could feel the warmth of the flames from the hearth finally warming his bones. A pitiful sorry escaped his lips and it seemed as if Tybalt tensed less, his grip slackening.

“Tomorrow,” the Capulet said with a soft voice, “we will have a long walk ahead of us. But tonight we shall rest here and warm us. I have ordered a room. You shall sleep with me so we can keep warm. But don't ever walk out like that into the cold. Don't ever walk out on me again.”

Mercutio didn't know why he said it. But he whispered a soft promise that he wouldn't.


	31. Meran

Though the weather wasn't much better than it had been the day before, Mercutio and his sibling rose early and prepared for their journey. Their clothes were dry and their bodies felt warm. Tybalt was already up and dressed and he instructed them on how to dress themselves and how to have their breakfast. He made sure they hurried up and they left before the first ray of sun could show itself.

It was early, too early, but as the sky became lighter Mercutio threw a glance at his sister. Valentine caught his look and frowned, then looked ahead of them.

The rain was lighter than the day before and quite soon it stopped. The sun showed itself several times that day, though it didn't become as warm that it could be called pleasant. Tybalt had them walking at a punishing pace, ordering to keep a move on while throwing glances behind them as if he was afraid someone would catch up.

They reached another inn that evening and like the night before, Tybalt paid for one room and the next morning he had them up before dawn and nearly chased them all out onto the road.

Confused, the siblings let themselves be led further away from Verona.

At the end of the fourth day they sat in another inn. It wasn't late. The sun had come through more and more in the past few days and was still shining outside as they could see through the window. Mercutio glanced up at Tybalt who sat opposite of him and was pricking his meal with a spoon, as if he couldn't decide whether he wanted to eat more of it.

“As you have noticed we have walked continuously over the past few days.” He said, waiting for Tybalt to look up at him. “We've already reached Meran.”

Tybalt frowned at him and it was clear that he was waiting for what Mercutio really wanted to say. The boy looked at his sister helplessly, but Valentine just smiled at him encouragingly.

“Well, what I wanted to say was,” Mercutio hesitated and bit his lip before gathering his courage, “we're getting nearer and nearer to the border.”

“And?” Tybalt raised a brow while he brought his spoon down, leaving it on his plate to give Mercutio his full attention.

“You could have taken us back the first day. You could have called for the others to come and pick us up. Yet you've walked with us like you were a slave yourself, trying to get away.” Here he hesitated again and reached out a hand to place on top of Tybalt's. He didn't pull his hand away, merely looked at the touch before looking back up at Mercutio again.

“Yes?”

“Why do you walk with us?” Was this some sick joke from their master to take them all the way to the border of their country and then call for the Capulets to come and pick them up? To have them sniff freedom and be reminded that they would never get away? Or was it- perhaps even worse- that Tybalt would walk them safely to the border and then say his goodbyes, leave them free while he returned to the Capulet lair? “You won't leave us, will you?”

Valentine gasped and Tybalt and Mercutio turned to look at her. She quickly apologised and shyly looked away.

“Leave you?” Tybalt said through gritted teeth. “What odd thoughts do you get into your head, boy? If I may remind you, I _bought_ you. _Both_ of you. Why would I let my property get away?” Then his snarl turned into a playful smirk. 

“No, leave you I will not. I was thinking Switzerland was a nice play to stay for a while.... maybe travel to Luxembourg or even all the way to the UK.”

Mercutio's eyes turned impossibly wide but before he could retract his hand, Tybalt had started gently swiping his thumb past the soft flesh of the back of Mercutio's hand. The gesture was so affectionate that the boy didn't even want to move his body anymore. This felt good.

“Hey, isn't that what we wanted, bro?” Valentine asked. “To get away. To get far away.”

“Tybalt,” it took Mercutio a moment to gather his voice and his thoughts, “but why?”

The Capulet kept brushing his thumb past Mercutio's flesh lovingly. “Perhaps I wish to try and be less.... demanding of you. Perhaps I wish to try and be there for you.”

It was clear the Capulet would never admit and say what he truly meant: That he was escaping his own chains. The chains his family had put on him as he grew up. Chains of expectation, of hate, of treating others like they were less. The always present threat of family betraying each other, of taking selfish pleasures, of bringing hurt.

Tybalt would not say that he wished for them to be a proper family – which is what he wanted. Now with Valentine pregnant of what could possibly his child, could possibly Mercutio's, could absolutely not matter to him because these were the people he loved. But he would not say it to them, he would not describe it for he thought himself incapable of loving others right. After all, he'd never been capable of loving himself right, had he? And the example of family he had wasn't a brilliant one.

Mercutio and Valentine needed their freedom back. They needed a relationship where they could trust and an environment in which their child could grow. And Tybalt needed it too. The freedom. The relationship. The trust.

He stared at the empty spaces round their necks. With the collars gone they no longer carried his name and mark on them. But that didn't mean they didn't belong to him any longer.

A small smile curled his lips as he looked up at Valentine who had placed her hand on top of the pile made of his and Mercutio's hands. She smiled encouragingly at him.

“So you decided to escape too?” More she didn't need to say.

The look he gave her confirmed her words.

“Did you bring enough of your pills?” Mercutio's question came unexpected and Tybalt and Valentine broke eye-contact to stare at him.

He smiled apologetically and scratched the back of his head. “Ah well, You know we do worry about you.”

Tybalt seemed a bit confused but nodded. “I did.”

“Good. Well, we brought the wood just in case.” Mercutio said in rather a haste.

“You brought the wood?” Tybalt said incredulously.

“We both did.” Valentine said with a small chuckle. “I guess it went without thinking.”

“Touching. Of all the things you could take with you on your escape you both take a piece of wood to put between my teeth like a horse gone wild or a dog that needs to be muzzled.” Tybalt lamented.

“Well, you can be quite wild at times.” Mercutio said with a cheeky smile. He challengingly raised a brow when Tybalt looked at him.

“Hey,” he continued in the same cheeky voice as before, “I heard they got this cool old pink castle up at Ridanna. I know it's still a day or two travelling if we go by foot but... I suppose we need to pass it anyway if we want to travel via Brennero.”

“Oh yes, a castle.” Valentine said, clapping her hands. “I do love castles.”

Tybalt huffed. “I suppose there's a little time left to do sight-seeing during our escape. If it pleases the prince and princess.”

Mercutio froze in his seat and Tybalt, instantly recognizing the haunted look in the boy's eyes, reached out for him and pulled him closer.

“You're not a prince of slaves anymore, Cutio. Forget that.” And Mercutio knew somehow that from now on things would have changed for the better. Especially when Tybalt whispered in his ear.

“From now on you're just _my prince_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ FIN ~


End file.
